I don’t want these Marines and soldiers and sailors and airmen I live with to suffer the morale-destroying disillusionment. I was an Air Force brat in Japan last time. My school bus drove past the Pacific Theater Graves Registration Transfer Point at Tachikawa every day. Stacks and stacks of zinc coffins being moved with forklifts. The casualty list took up the entire back page of the Pacific Stars and Stripes. Big green ambulance buses. Wounded on cots in the hospital hallways, IV bottles hanging from rods attached to the cot. Walking wounded in neon blue pajamas on pass at the BX. And nobody was glad to see the Chaplain walking in their housing area in Class A’s. My father was stuck in Korea, caught up in the Pueblo Incident. We didn’t get Walter Cronkite. What I knew of the Vietnam War I did not learn from American television.
I don't want to go through this again.
I was a cadet when Saigon fell. The psychological wounds of the men who trained me were to a certain degree contagious.
It's happening again. Will it work again? We see it coming this time. We have blogs and talk radio and Fox News this time. Will we be able to stop the stab in the back this time? Can we do for the veterans of this war what we failed to do for the veterans of that war? Can we spare the veterans of this war the anquish of knowing that the people and society for whom they bled, sweated, cried, killed, and watched friends die, were not worth the sacrifices made for them?
I’m not optimistic. It will take an effort similar in intensity to the concerted campaign that got the amnesty bill killed. It will take the big hitters of the blogosphere to hit the big talk radio talent with a clue bat to generate the phone calls and emails to defeatist Senators whose minds are made up no matter what General Petraeus says. It will take hundreds of thousands of motivated, engaged, articulate callers, commenters, emailers and letter writers. Does my side have that many?
It’s nut cutting time. Yellow ribbon magnets on the back of your car ain’t gonna get ‘er done.
Cannoneer and I were on R&R. We spent some very good quaility time together. God! I missed him! He has been in Afghanistan or Iraq for 27 of the last 34 months. He has taken me to England, Thailand, and Colorado. I’m so grateful for the R&R’s. They make doing this a lot easier. They are just so very short. He has been in transit and his cell phone doesn’t work in Anbar Province, so when he called yesterday I was so excited to hear from him, but I thought I heard another big BOOM ( Live from Iraq it’s Indirect Fire; 26 Feburary2007) . My heart only stopped for a few seconds this time. He was on the email within minutes to tell me that we had just got cut off, not incoming. Big relief! We chatted for a while then he went to get ready for work. He calls me after his breakfast and we try to keep our lives as normal as possible. The problem is I have a good idea of what really goes on there, being an Army brat and hearing war stories since I can remember, then being an Army wife durning all the problems our world has had since 1980 I have a very fertile imagination. Which is not very helpful when you are trying to live with the knowledge that all your Boys ( husband and 3 sons) are in harms way.
Right now, today, everyone I love and care about is safe and well. Thank you God for all your blessings! I pray constantly for everyone in harms way. It’s how I get through the day. It’s so very hard to do this without some kind of faith in a higher being.
More people noticed my absence than I thought would. I have let this blog slide, but I have been totally fixated on R&R, either fantasizing about taking it, going to it, enjoying it, or coming back from it. The lovely and talented Cannonette adjusted my attitude, cured my testosterone poisoning, and restored my depleted stock of joy and happiness as we enthusiastically celebrated our release from celibacy. We took a road trip to the Rockies, just the two of us. The price of gas in the States is outrageous. And yet there are people running around saying this is a war for oil. Listened to a lot of talk radio while driving. I used to listen to Neal and Rush and Sean all day, but they aren’t easy to get out here, so I had forgotten what demogogues they were. Sean and Rush demonstrated the power of talk radio in the killing of the amnesty bill. Too bad the talkers can’t whip up the same outrage over the upcoming stab in the back in Iraq. Out here in Anbar, the war is going fairly well. You know how I know? The incoming doesn’t come in anymore. The Retrograde Yard has fewer destroyed vehicles in it. There are fewer helos dropping off casualties. Things are getting better where I’m at. I’m winning my part of the war. The people around me are winning their part of the war. There are successes all over this country, but, back in the rear, one Aw, Shit erases 100 Attaboys, and all al Qaeda has to do is set off a bomb and the NYT/WAPO/LAT/CNN/PMSNBC/ABC/NBC/SeeBS branches of al Jazeerah wail and gnash their teeth about how we can’t win, we’re in a quagmire, the Surge has failed, we must cut & run, yadda, yadda, et cetera, et cetera, yessir, yessir three bags full. And way too many of my fellow Americans are ready to pull the plug on us. Us’ns out here are winning our part of the war, but y’all in the rear are letting us down. Y’all ain’t doing YOUR part to resist the enemy propaganda. Y’all ain’t doing YOUR part to hold defeatists accountable for their treachery. Y’all ain’t doing YOUR part in providing our leadership with some FOLLOWERSHIP!
Yeah, I know. It’s all Bush’s fault. Keep telling yourself that.
It’s 116 degrees Farhenheit. You think I sound cranky?