Monday, May 28, 2007

The Forgotten Fewest


STATISTICS

Iraq:

American deaths confirmed by The DoD: 3,444
Reported American deaths pending DoD confirmation: 11
Total: 3,455

American wounded: 24,314

Afghanistan:

American deaths confirmed by The DoD: 390
American wounded: 1,141


When someone asks you whether you would be willing to die for your country, it's a reflexive action to say in response, "Sure I would." Here in the U.S., patriotism is ingrained in us from the age of six with the Pledge of Allegiance, the Star Spangled Banner, and Memorial Day Parades. When we get older, the answer to the question is still the same, but we're not being completely honest when we give it. If we were being honest, our answer would be: "It depends." If we were being honest, we would admit that the answer to the question "Would you die for your country" is contingent on exactly what our country is asking us to do. In my case, are the leaders of the moment asking me to go fight people like the Nazis -- truly some of the most vile humanoids who ever marched on the planet -- where our freedom is really at stake? Where the enemy's wrongness is so clear that we have no choice but to fight? Is the United States being invaded? Am I being asked to pick up a rifle and go guerrilla against an invading army, like those pesky kids (led by a young Patrick Swazye) in that Reagan era movie Red Dawn, where they fought the Russians, Cubans, and Nicaraguans to a standstill? Wolveriiiines!!! No problem. Sign me up.

Or... are the grayheads driving the bus sending me to Vietnam to "fight communism," or to Iraq, to "fight the terrorists"? I think in the latter two situations, if I was being honest, I would say, fuck no, I am not willing to surrender my life, or even an arm or a leg for my country. You couldn't pay me enough to go fight in Iraq. My life is pretty valuable to me. If you're asking me to risk it, you'd better have a damn good reason. Vietnam and Iraq don't cut it, because my country's well-being and national security were not threatened by either Vietnam or Iraq before we started those wars. Why should I die on behalf of a flawed "Domino Theory," or to help Halliburton boost its oil profits? If Americans are too lazy or clueless to stop sucking the Middle East oil teat and develop an alternative fuel source, why should I put my life on the line so they can drive SUVs and pay $2.50/gallon for gas. Sorry. Na ga da.

Fortunately, I, like most Americans, don't have to worry about these little distinctions. There's no draft here; we have an all-volunteer military. So only those who have chosen to join the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marines are required to go and fight. The rest of us stay at home. While they're swallowing Iraqi sand dust in bunkers and claustrophobic foxholes, we get to go to work, make money, follow our favorite baseball team, eat out at nice restaurants, shop at Bloomie's, and vacation in Maui, Thailand, and South Africa. On Memorial Day, we get to go to the beach and have barbecues while they patrol Baghdad's homicidal streets, wondering if that rock at the side of the road is hiding an IED; if the Iraqis or Afghanis watching them pass are there to distract, while someone unseen, 20 yards away, targets them with an RPG; and if that beat-up Toyota with the kids in the backseat contains an innocent family or a suicide bomber. We have all day to get our tans and read our magazines. They have only a split second to decide what to do when death is waiting for them at every corner: shoot, stop, duck, hide, run, walk, engage in conversation, piss themselves with fear (which is what most of us would do under the circumstances).

When our soldiers wake up every day in Iraq or Afghanistan, they have to wonder Is this the day? The day I die for my country? While we sit at home, forgetting all about them, focusing instead on climbing the corporate ladder and whether that cute chartreuse blouse really matches that navy skirt.

Just like always, our wars are being fought by the brave few while the rest of us sit home and watch it on t.v. Except now, since we don't have a draft, the brave few are even fewer than before. (The Pentagon learned its lesson after Vietnam; drafts tend to cause really NASTY protests when unpopular wars come around). They are the fewEST. The forgotten fewest. They serve our country and don't ask questions, even as they are called back to Iraq and Afghanistan, redeployed over and over again, abused by a flawed system where reinforcements are hard to come by. Even as they are called to walk into the cross-hairs of a civil war that will continue long after they're gone, whenever that is. Even as they have been wronged by a government and in particular, a President, who will go down as one of the worst in our history for the fraudulent, bloody, and criminal foreign policy decisions he has made.

Many of the forgotten fewest have come home in coffins framed by American flags that no one is allowed to photograph. Others have come home without arms, legs, eyes, ears, and pieces of skull, forced to live the rest of their lives with a fraction of the body they had before they left for Iraq or Afghanistan. Still others have been so debilitated by PTSD that they eventually kill themselves, or exorcise their demons on someone else, a lover, a wife, a child. Years of committed therapy and medication are the only hope for a normal life for those who are struggling to keep it together.

Did you think about any of these people this weekend while you were at the beach or in your backyard?

As usual, the heavy burden of our wars is being borne by very few people and their families. As usual, the rest of us, the majority beneficiaries of their sacrifice, haven't been asked to a damn thing to support them. Okay, we did get some tax cuts and President Bush told us to go shopping to keep the economy strong. Of course, this doesn't help the soldiers very much. But do we need to be asked? If you would like to do something real for them, something that will make a difference in their lives and the lives of their families, here are some ideas:

Operation Hero Miles - donating your unused frequent flier miles to the families of wounded servicemen and women, so they can visit their loved ones at military hospitals across the country. If you do it before midnight tonight, the airlines will match the miles you give.

Operation Uplink - you can donate calling cards so military families can stay in touch during their separations.

Any Soldier - facilitates the sending of care packages and mail to specific soldiers.

Ourfinest - an organization that provides education, job placement, and mental health assistance to soldiers and their families.

Whether you agree with the policy behind these wars or not, the people who are fighting them on our behalf, at the behest of our elected government, deserve our support and respect. They also deserve to come home as soon as possible, and it's our obligation as Americans to do something to make sure that happens.

7 comments:

K. said...

thanks for writing this... and thanks for paying attention to things most people like us don't have to...

K. said...

btw - your new profile pic looks a little "Travis Bickle-esque" in an artsy sorta way... ;-)

Tim said...

Bickle is totally the look I was going for. The ladies LOVE Bickle.

Anonymous said...

In 1982, when Margaret Thatcher sent a task force to reclaim the most far flung Islands left in the British Empire, the people of Britain learned for the first time of the Falkland Islands.

My friend C was 23. Her younger brother, Lieutenant M, was 21 and served in the 2nd Battalion Scots Guards whos Regiment was suddenly diverted from London duties including standing guard outside Buckingham Palace to hastily train for war.

In the battle of Tumbledown Mountain, the last ferocious ground fight before the land was recaimed, Ltnt M lost his life with three brave comrades. He was the last military casualty of the Falkland Islands War.

After a funeral with full military honours, his father took his own life unable to bear the pain. His mother took a breakdown resulting coincidentally or not, in premature dementia. She existed in a semi vegetative state until she died six months ago.

C is now living with my friend T and they have a son together. Their life is underpinned by sadness and poor coping mechanisms.

Although the majority of Britons felt the Falklands War was a just one, C cannot move on, as war and fighting and casulaties and loss are on our screens every day, but for very unjust wars.

When I consider paying my friend a visit, I stop and think, will she be in a good mood? will she be down? and I end up talking myself out of it. Having lost a brother myself, I never feel emotionally ready to sit and open up mutually painful cans of worms.

Im sure T, all (6 of)your readers may well have similar stories to tell. Just thought this would be of interest, to see the trail of destruction 25 years on.

Fuck Tony Blair (good riddance)
Fuck George Bush
Happy Blogging Anniversary x

Tim said...

Wow, that is a tragic story, R. Given how close I am with my family, I can understand how an entire family could be devastated by a loss like the one you described, but it's still shocking to hear what happened to your friend. Very sad. Thank you for sharing your story. And yes, you're right, some of my readers have similar stories of their own.

ellagood said...

my cousin died in the first gulf war. less than 50 (i believe) men and women died in that "conflict." it was seen as a real "victory" in the eyes of our country, government and media.

however, one person dying is one too many. and now we are up to how many thousand in the current war? young husbands, young fathers, young citizens - dying...it's fucking 2007 - it's about time we realize that we are too evolved for fighting and bloodshed. honestly, we all need to grow the fuck up.

Tim said...

Hey E - you're totally right. The first Gulf War is described as a total cakewalk and everyone forgets that people died. I'm sorry to hear about your cousin.

As far as evolution goes, I think we're still far closer to apes than we are to anything enlightened. Pretty sad.