Wednesday, September 21, 2005
In honor of our troops
When I was twenty, I still, like most people my age, did not know what I wanted to do with my life. One day, while at the mall, my attention was caught by an army poster which urged me to be all I could be. Be all I could be. That sounded pretty good. Not only, by enlisting in the army, would I learn what I could be, but I could actually Be all I could Be. Looking back on it now, I think the statement had a certain zen quality to it that appealed to me on an instinctual level.
Not one to close doors on opportunities, I made my way to an army enlistment office which was located on the same street as the mall. When I pulled up to the front door, I was encouraged with the redundant message hanging from the poster in the window. Be all you can be! Encouraged by this echo-sign, I straightened my clothes and made my way into the office.
Front and center, there was a desk being tended by an army seargant sitting very erect, speaking on the phone to presumably a potential enlistee. The seargant was clean shaven, his green uniform seemingly perfectly pressed with a little extra starch. His face had a healthy shine to it, a patina that glowed even beneath the fluorescent lighting. He acknowledged my presence, indicating with one finger that he would be right with me.
As I waited, I sat in a seat that was just one in a line of chairs. None of the other chairs were attended by any opportunists such as myself. A magazine caught my eye. I did not know the army put out magazines. There it was again. Be all you can be! The cover picture being that of a white male and a black man both in movie-ready grease paint, their faces streaked with green and black. Looked pretty cool I thought.
As I flipped through the pages, I noticed young men about my age engaged in various army functions. In the pictures, some sat at desks seemingly doing important administrative work, others were out in the field, their one leg up on a jeep floorboard talking on a radio. Some of the men were parachuting. I tried to visualize myself doing any of these things and decided I could at least sit at the desk, if not talk on the radio in the field.
Not realizing how involved I was in the glossy magazine, I was interrupted by the young seargant. 'Well hello there' he said, rising from his desk, coming around to greet me with his hand outstretched. 'How can I help you today'? 'Well, I'm thinking of joining the army'. Folded arms and I kid you not, a square jaw. 'Well what do you want to do in the army'? came the reply.
And there was the rub. You didn't just join the army in those days. You declared what you wanted to do and went at it that way. I hadn't a clue what I would specifically do in the army, so I demurred, lifting my shoulders with hands opened up in a questioning manner.
The seargant looked me up and down. 'Well we have testing'. 'Maybe that should be the first step for you. We can schedule testing and you can shoot for what best suits you'.
The seargant scheduled me for testing the very next day, telling me it would last most the day. Most the day, I thought. The longest test I had taken was my SAT, which lasted most a day, and I was not looking forward to being subjected to much the same. Again.
But I went. I sat in a room, in a building downtown, with a group of other young men my age, testing to find out what I could do in the army. I felt good, at the end, about the comprehensive reading part, but the math sections contained material that was much more advanced than I had studied in high school.
Within a few days, I received the letter, postmarked by the U.S. Army. The army felt my talents, based on testing would best be used in the capacity of a linguist. I didn't know what a linguist was. I didn't know the army employed linguists.
Next, I was to be shipped off for physical testing. Naive as I was at the time, I didn't realize this was the only testing the army was truly concerned about.
So it came down to this. Did I have the stuff? Could I leave on an army bus out of my city, away from my family, and subject myself to rigorous phyical testing that would determine if I could survive boot camp?
That was where my tangent with the army ended. When it came right down to it, I didn't have the stuff to leave my home city, go away from my family, and be subjected to grueling physical training.
I got a couple of follow up calls from the desk seargant, and then was summarily left to be all I could be outside the armed forces.
Now we have this war. And we are sending young men in their twenties into a foreign country to fight a war away from their home cities, away from their families, and subjected to grueling physical hardships. And some of them are coming home.
In body bags.
The last count I have heard is two thousand of our troops dead.
This is, in my humble opinion, a reactionary war. A war being fought as a result of 9/11. The argument was made that Saddam Hussein was courting terrorists and ammassing weapons of mass destruction. Based on these two criteria, I supported the United States going to war with Iraq. I felt that if we didn't take action, the courted terrorists would kill more helpless Americans, and Saddam's weapons of mass destruction would eventually be turned against more helpless people.
Then something else occurred that framed our reason for going to war in my mind. Mass Iraqi graves were being uncovered. So now, Saddam Hussein was not only a terrorist courter and WMD ammasser, but he was a despot who was killing his own people for crimes who knew what.
So I felt that the war took on a larger theme. In the midst of the middle east, a despot of the lowest order was being deposed, and a democracy was being established. There would be free elections.
I thought about the war in these terms. Is the deposing of a despot and the establishment of a democracy worth sending troops in harm's way? And in President Bush's words, is freedom worth fighting for?
I considered what it would be like to live under a tyrannical despot who would kill and bury his own subjects at will. The general misery that would exist. I thought about absolutes. Is there a right, and is there a wrong? Is democracy right and despotism wrong?
The thoughts of living under such a government brought a shudder that shook me to my bones. And, perhaps unpopularly, I decided there was such a thing as right and wrong, and that we were going to fight a war based on the just principles of democracy, freedom, while enjoying the added benefit of ridding the world of a terrorist threat and WMD manufacturer.
Then came the reports. Saddam had not ammassed weapons of mass destruction. There was no direct evidence that Hussein was courting terrorists. People became upset because some in the media, and justly so, were reporting that there may be reasons America was going to war with Iraq other than terrorism and weapons of mass destruction.
So it became easy for me to understand why people would protest this war in Iraq. Especially those families whose twenty something sons were being put into harm's way for more and more apparent shaky reasons. Oil? Unfininshed business between the house of Bush and the house of Hussein? Surely two thousand not dead as a result of a familial vendetta.
Which brings me to the final point. There are those cynical people and there are those idealistic people who part ways at this fork in the road. For idealists, the war simply cannot be fought on grounds of vendettas or oil. This simply isn't an option. For the cynics, the war is not being fought for freedom or democracy, but rather take the opposing path. I believe the reasons for this war are decided in accordance to the attitude of the observer. Some will see conspiracy, some will see a new breaking order that could potentially provide a season of stability in an otherwise unstable nation.
Perhaps obviously, I am of the idealistic stripe. Take away the terrorist threat. Take away the WMD threat, my mind cannot obliterate the images of those mass graves of men, women and children. Saddam was a bully despot, and we were the country that most readily could depose him. Also I believe there are some terrrorists who perhaps won't act as often because they now see the U.S. is up for the challenge and will respond in a proactive manner.
So this is in honor of our troops. Those twenty somethings and more who chose to sign on with the armed forces to better their lot, or escape their fortune, or perhaps, protect their country. We unlike Israel, do not have compulsive military duty. This war is being fought on a completely volunteer basis.
And to those volunteers who would become true heroes, I say thank you from the bottom of my coward's heart.
When I was twenty, I still, like most people my age, did not know what I wanted to do with my life. One day, while at the mall, my attention was caught by an army poster which urged me to be all I could be. Be all I could be. That sounded pretty good. Not only, by enlisting in the army, would I learn what I could be, but I could actually Be all I could Be. Looking back on it now, I think the statement had a certain zen quality to it that appealed to me on an instinctual level.
Not one to close doors on opportunities, I made my way to an army enlistment office which was located on the same street as the mall. When I pulled up to the front door, I was encouraged with the redundant message hanging from the poster in the window. Be all you can be! Encouraged by this echo-sign, I straightened my clothes and made my way into the office.
Front and center, there was a desk being tended by an army seargant sitting very erect, speaking on the phone to presumably a potential enlistee. The seargant was clean shaven, his green uniform seemingly perfectly pressed with a little extra starch. His face had a healthy shine to it, a patina that glowed even beneath the fluorescent lighting. He acknowledged my presence, indicating with one finger that he would be right with me.
As I waited, I sat in a seat that was just one in a line of chairs. None of the other chairs were attended by any opportunists such as myself. A magazine caught my eye. I did not know the army put out magazines. There it was again. Be all you can be! The cover picture being that of a white male and a black man both in movie-ready grease paint, their faces streaked with green and black. Looked pretty cool I thought.
As I flipped through the pages, I noticed young men about my age engaged in various army functions. In the pictures, some sat at desks seemingly doing important administrative work, others were out in the field, their one leg up on a jeep floorboard talking on a radio. Some of the men were parachuting. I tried to visualize myself doing any of these things and decided I could at least sit at the desk, if not talk on the radio in the field.
Not realizing how involved I was in the glossy magazine, I was interrupted by the young seargant. 'Well hello there' he said, rising from his desk, coming around to greet me with his hand outstretched. 'How can I help you today'? 'Well, I'm thinking of joining the army'. Folded arms and I kid you not, a square jaw. 'Well what do you want to do in the army'? came the reply.
And there was the rub. You didn't just join the army in those days. You declared what you wanted to do and went at it that way. I hadn't a clue what I would specifically do in the army, so I demurred, lifting my shoulders with hands opened up in a questioning manner.
The seargant looked me up and down. 'Well we have testing'. 'Maybe that should be the first step for you. We can schedule testing and you can shoot for what best suits you'.
The seargant scheduled me for testing the very next day, telling me it would last most the day. Most the day, I thought. The longest test I had taken was my SAT, which lasted most a day, and I was not looking forward to being subjected to much the same. Again.
But I went. I sat in a room, in a building downtown, with a group of other young men my age, testing to find out what I could do in the army. I felt good, at the end, about the comprehensive reading part, but the math sections contained material that was much more advanced than I had studied in high school.
Within a few days, I received the letter, postmarked by the U.S. Army. The army felt my talents, based on testing would best be used in the capacity of a linguist. I didn't know what a linguist was. I didn't know the army employed linguists.
Next, I was to be shipped off for physical testing. Naive as I was at the time, I didn't realize this was the only testing the army was truly concerned about.
So it came down to this. Did I have the stuff? Could I leave on an army bus out of my city, away from my family, and subject myself to rigorous phyical testing that would determine if I could survive boot camp?
That was where my tangent with the army ended. When it came right down to it, I didn't have the stuff to leave my home city, go away from my family, and be subjected to grueling physical training.
I got a couple of follow up calls from the desk seargant, and then was summarily left to be all I could be outside the armed forces.
Now we have this war. And we are sending young men in their twenties into a foreign country to fight a war away from their home cities, away from their families, and subjected to grueling physical hardships. And some of them are coming home.
In body bags.
The last count I have heard is two thousand of our troops dead.
This is, in my humble opinion, a reactionary war. A war being fought as a result of 9/11. The argument was made that Saddam Hussein was courting terrorists and ammassing weapons of mass destruction. Based on these two criteria, I supported the United States going to war with Iraq. I felt that if we didn't take action, the courted terrorists would kill more helpless Americans, and Saddam's weapons of mass destruction would eventually be turned against more helpless people.
Then something else occurred that framed our reason for going to war in my mind. Mass Iraqi graves were being uncovered. So now, Saddam Hussein was not only a terrorist courter and WMD ammasser, but he was a despot who was killing his own people for crimes who knew what.
So I felt that the war took on a larger theme. In the midst of the middle east, a despot of the lowest order was being deposed, and a democracy was being established. There would be free elections.
I thought about the war in these terms. Is the deposing of a despot and the establishment of a democracy worth sending troops in harm's way? And in President Bush's words, is freedom worth fighting for?
I considered what it would be like to live under a tyrannical despot who would kill and bury his own subjects at will. The general misery that would exist. I thought about absolutes. Is there a right, and is there a wrong? Is democracy right and despotism wrong?
The thoughts of living under such a government brought a shudder that shook me to my bones. And, perhaps unpopularly, I decided there was such a thing as right and wrong, and that we were going to fight a war based on the just principles of democracy, freedom, while enjoying the added benefit of ridding the world of a terrorist threat and WMD manufacturer.
Then came the reports. Saddam had not ammassed weapons of mass destruction. There was no direct evidence that Hussein was courting terrorists. People became upset because some in the media, and justly so, were reporting that there may be reasons America was going to war with Iraq other than terrorism and weapons of mass destruction.
So it became easy for me to understand why people would protest this war in Iraq. Especially those families whose twenty something sons were being put into harm's way for more and more apparent shaky reasons. Oil? Unfininshed business between the house of Bush and the house of Hussein? Surely two thousand not dead as a result of a familial vendetta.
Which brings me to the final point. There are those cynical people and there are those idealistic people who part ways at this fork in the road. For idealists, the war simply cannot be fought on grounds of vendettas or oil. This simply isn't an option. For the cynics, the war is not being fought for freedom or democracy, but rather take the opposing path. I believe the reasons for this war are decided in accordance to the attitude of the observer. Some will see conspiracy, some will see a new breaking order that could potentially provide a season of stability in an otherwise unstable nation.
Perhaps obviously, I am of the idealistic stripe. Take away the terrorist threat. Take away the WMD threat, my mind cannot obliterate the images of those mass graves of men, women and children. Saddam was a bully despot, and we were the country that most readily could depose him. Also I believe there are some terrrorists who perhaps won't act as often because they now see the U.S. is up for the challenge and will respond in a proactive manner.
So this is in honor of our troops. Those twenty somethings and more who chose to sign on with the armed forces to better their lot, or escape their fortune, or perhaps, protect their country. We unlike Israel, do not have compulsive military duty. This war is being fought on a completely volunteer basis.
And to those volunteers who would become true heroes, I say thank you from the bottom of my coward's heart.
