It’s late, I’m supposed to be working on something else, and I’m tired, but I had to write. I got an email tonight from an old friend from high school who leaves his wife (another friend from high school) and young daughter tomorrow to go to combat training in Wisconsin. He deploys to Iraq in mid-May for six month as a medical officer for the army.
So instead of working on this big project I’m going to announce here in a few days, I’m sitting here realizing that in five years, this war never seemed real to me. Until tonight. Until someone I know, someone who at one time long ago was a part of my daily life, part of the gang (the Brat Pack is what we called them actually), part of the long chain of memories and experiences that lead me to be sitting here this evening, actually has to go risk his life in this war.
I’m stunned. In part because he’s going, in part because of my reaction. This is not someone I’ve kept in close touch with–an email once a year has been about it. I’ve only seen the guy once since college, at our ten year reunion, and, although I didn’t have a blog then and won’t waste energy on it now, the evening was less than warm and fuzzy for me. So why am I sitting here thinking I’m probably not going to get much sleep tonight?
Am I lucky because I haven’t been touched by this war, or ashamed? Four thousand people like my friend have gone to war in Iraq and never come back. They had old school friends, families, wives, husbands, and daughters, too, but I barely gave them a thought except in the context of ranting about the politics of oil, terror, and war. So I guess I’m lucky, and ashamed, and wondering how, when so many millions of Americans surely do know one of the men and women that are already in Iraq, we’ve managed to let war become a part of the collective unconscious.
The talking heads relay statistics each day on the T.V. (at least I’m guessing they do–we’ve passed the 6-month mark without network television and I’m not missing it much!), journalists write about it, politicians debate it. But, after five years, have we just sort of tuned them all out? Have we forgotten that, in addition to the immeasurable impact our occupation has had on the Iraqis, that it’s taking a toll here too in blood, money, and perhaps even in our collective integrity? Are the families of these folks just suffering quietly, hoping for the best, and fading away into the background as we charge on to brighter topics like the election or the Olympics? How can we forget about this war? How can we let war become our status quo in this beautiful country?
I don’t usually do things like this because I don’t often like what people try to make our flag represent, but I’m putting a flag on ChezArtz. In honor of my friend, in honor of everyone else that’s been deployed around the world, in honor of those who have died, and to remind myself that war should never fade into the background, never become the status quo. And because, after five years of not doing anything, I feel like I have to do something, even if it’s small.
3 comments
Irene says:
April 9, 2008 at 4:20 am (UTC 2 )
Well spoken.
Mom says:
March 28, 2008 at 4:47 am (UTC 2 )
Who is it? The only one I could think of was Ben. Mom
Heather says:
March 28, 2008 at 12:45 am (UTC 2 )
I am up late too, working and saw your post. I’ll keep your friend in my thoughts.
We had a friend go to Iraq within months of it starting. She was deployed for an entire year, got shot at, had to defend herself based on her training. It was really hard not to think about her every day when she was “over there.” Her life changed a lot while in Iraq- she said things she never thought of here, were very important in Iraq. Since her unit was pretty much one of the first ones there, there was no running water, electrictiy, or air conditioning despite it being 140 degrees! There were very few secured areas, and the threat of being attacked was very, very, realistic and probable.
Every time we got a letter from her, it was like a gift. A gift in knowing that she was OK, and there was hope she’d be home one day. She often wrote about many good things happening in Iraq too, and depsite the hardships, she was glad she was able to make a difference for the Iraqi people.
I have never been very patriotic, but just hearing what she was going through, what she gave up, and what she lived through for her country- for us- made me appreciate everything military families go through. I have a tremendous amount of respect for her, and so many like her. They really are heroes, despite how one feels personally about the war.
Our friend had to stay a few more months past the initial year, but guess what? She came home. It took her some time to adjust back to “normal” life, but she survived. She also met her future husband in her unit, and got to know him very well, as you can imagine in Iraq. They started dating when they got back and got married a year or so later.
Last week, she gave birth to their first child, a girl, Molly. She decided to leave the Army (I guess if you get pregnant, you are able to be honorably discharged before you would be expected to return from maternity leave) and continue working for them now as a civilian when she returns to work.
Keep good thoughts for your friend, and remember most soldiers DO come home, and continue to live their lives. It sure isn’t easy though to always think that, when someone you care about is deployed. Hopefully, ALL the soliders can come home soon.