American Holidays are kind of weird. We celebrate the birth of a poor Jewish child by decorating trees and spending feverishly on consumer goods at Christmas. We celebrate the death of that same Jewish child by coloring hard-boiled eggs and eating ham and marshmellow bunnies. We celebrate our soldiers who have given young lives for our country by having picnics and barbecues. And maybe that's how our young soldiers would want to be remembered, at a picnic table, with really cold beer and grilled hot dogs. I didn't celebrate today, I work nearly every holiday, and today in particular, I did not want to remember the death of any soldier, nor did I want to think about those I know that I hope are still living, two in Iraq, one in Afghanistan. What I would most love to celebrate today is the thought of bringing them home so that they can drink beer and eat hot dogs with those of us who love them most.
The thought of bringing them home is something that is not likely to happen any time soon.
One of the guys that worked for me at the coffee shop a couple of years ago enlisted in the Army because after two years in Iraq, he would become a US citizen. His name was Miguel, he was a Christian, and not afraid of dying, and he believed that being a soldier was an honorable profession. I tried to get him to understand the idea of the Commandment that says "Thou Shall Not Kill", but he seemed to believe that soldiers were exempt. I brought him a necklace back from Italy, a cross with a dove taking flight, but he was deployed before I saw him again, and today, I don't know where he is, or even if he's alive. I worry, he was young, he barely spoke English, and he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so I hope has kept himself out of harms way, and will someday find me so that I can give him his cross.
A mother of a 3 year old is stationed in Afghanistan. I had thought that Kabul was a safe place to finish an Army tour, and I was elated to know that the mother had transferred from Iraq. The mother is afraid of the guns she carries. The 3 year old, who's name is Tatiana, is happy, and much loved by her aunts and uncles while her mother is away. Tatiana sings and dances, and I think will someday star on American Idol. I pray her mother will live to see the day.
I was truly disturbed to hear that a fellow blogger Armand had re-enlisted in the army and was deployed in Iraq. Armand and I never agreed on anything politically, but we did both find common ground when we discussed women. We both liked them. I understand the need for a soldier to believe that his mission is worthy of his life, and that the generals who sent him to risk it have thought a good deal about his safety, and provided him with the best protection that American taxpayer's can buy. I can understand that a man who is five minutes from violent death at any given moment must not doubt that his cause is right, and that staying alive and keeping his soldiers alive must be his only priority. I understand Armand, and his patriotism. I am grateful for the sacrifices he makes on a daily basis, far from home, in a hot and hostile country, I am grateful that men and women volunteer to serve in the armed forces to protect our country. I am proud to be an American, I am proud of our brave soldiers.
I am not proud that we decided to send these men to a conflict that had nothing to do with protecting our country. I am ashamed that we sent them thinking only of an easy victory, a cakewalk of a war, and not of occupying a hostile country. I am ashamed that we have asked them to pay the cost of this war with their only lives, when we have not even paid the cost to provided them with the proper body armour. I'm ashamed that our political leaders have no idea how to end the conflict, and that some of the leaders of our armed forces think that it's okay to leave these men and women at risk indefinitely. I'm ashamed that Americans are eating hotdogs and drinking beer today when they should be praying for the safety of these young men and women, Memorial Day should be the most solemn of holidays.
I'm done with work, the holiday is over, and I'm done believing in any war that is not waged in self defense. But right now, I will light three candles, hoping for the safe return of these soldiers. These candles and my hope for peace may not make any difference in the lives of our soldiers, but I can't pretend to enjoy the holiday when at any moment, the candles might go out, and there might not ever be a noble reason for their deaths.
The fourth candle that I light tonight is for peace, and the hope that the world will tire soon of needless conflict and the sacrifices of our young and demand an end to armed conflict.
