The Highway.com

I really did not want to write another piece about our involvement in Iraq. Though there is so much more that I could say, I had already said enough. I neither wanted this war, nor bought into its empty promises, but I was on the losing side of a battle of words that had grown redundant, counterproductive. After all, I had other things I could say.

It was easier than having to face the cost of war.

The Cost of War

(May 4, 2004)

The White House had sold a frightened nation, perplexed and still reeling from the tragic loss of 9/11, that an old enemy held scores of banned weapons . . . that he intended to place their vicious destructive power in the hands of terrorists to use against us. It showed us pictures and charts, assuring us they were there, and a majority of the people, impatient for vengeance and a high profile war, bought the sales pitch hook line and sinker. Our nation signed on the dotted line, purchased a war, and shouted to the world we need you no more. We never actually found any “Weapons of Mass Destruction,” however, and an increasing number of politicians are now mirroring the sentiment of a population, that is beginning to believe they were never really there. A bid to secure our nation and the world from harm, in effect, had become nothing more than a wild goose chase, but in its wake was a country left in chaos. We bought a promise and a war for 85 billion dollars that could not be delivered, and now we are only beginning to see its true cost.

Need I say more?

Shock and Awe, a search and destroy mission turned into a red herring, but we paid for a war and needed a new reason. Bush became the new Lincoln, and a war was re-sold as an emancipation of the world’s newest slaves. The Bush administration painted for us a picture of a tyrant, who tortured his own people, and we were their saviors bringing them to peace and prosperity in the world of our vision. We were shown the atrocities of a monster, and a nation felt its heartstrings played with precision, though not with difficulty, since we had already paid for something we didn’t get. “We are not an army of occupation,” the story had gone, “but an army of liberation,” and when we finally caught him, the “Evildoer” looked diminished, defeated, disappointing. When I first saw the pictures, I half-expected him to be carrying a tin cup to seek alms in a subway station, but this did not solve our problem. An army of liberation became an embittered occupation, and our generation has for its payment a new Vietnam . . . a war that is not a war. What was promised was not delivered . . . yet another cost of war.

“But the war is over! Isn’t it?” a nation scratches its head.

“Bush said so last May.”

A war, which Bush declared finished a year ago last week, has claimed more casualties than when it raged, and many suspect it has only just begun. While our government promises an end to the “occupation” (I thought it was liberation, but who reads the fine print), it quickly approaches an impossible deadline, as the newest photos tell us a different story. Controversy rages over pictures of caskets draped in American flags, Ted Koppel providing names and faces to the bodies within. And people complain that it robs the dignity of those who paid the ultimate price? It only shows a nation the cost of war.

“At least we are more civilized than that butcher Saddam,” the majority proclaims. “At least we play by the rules.”

Do we?

The Arab world, who reminded a deaf nation daily, “you have overstayed your welcome,” increasingly shouts, “you are no different,” as it shows us images of inhumanity from a nation that prides itself on being humane. A government sold our nation a war that would see an end to atrocities, freeing people that had been stripped of all honor and dignity, restoring civilized ideals. Photos of prisoners being tortured and humiliated for the amusement of our soldiers, have replaced the toppling of the enemy’s icons and the cheering of the newly freed crowds. While our commanders disavow and relocate the guilty parties, they promise swift justice, a move that reminds me more of the “priesthood shuffle.” The Middle East is outraged, and terrorism has more than enough fuel to gain recruits. The pictures are worth thousands of words to them, “the infidel” at its finest, and gives a clear enemy to hate. They can now sell a war of terror to would-be recruits saying “this is America,“ not the isolated acts of the few. Meanwhile, our government grimaces, calls it ugly, wipes the egg off its face, and a nation tries to figure out what just happened. Well, what did we expect?

“But we are not like that!” we express in shock and disbelief.

Yes we are, or can be when all the right buttons are pushed.

War is ugly, and this is but another of its endless costs.

War has always been this way, always will, and the Iraq War (police action, liberating force, occupation . . . whatever) is no different than all the rest. Underneath the speeches and parades, the yellow ribbons and flags (that we see less and less), are bodies being blown to pieces, normal people turned into killing machines, dancing a line daily with the values that they are fighting to preserve. This is the job they are sent to do . . . to become ugly for us so we can feel clean, and yes, some go above and beyond. It is not sanitary, like John Wayne’s storming the beaches on D-Day. It is not a bloodied Bruce Willis going to the shower after the director says “cut.” The “rocket’s red glare, bombs bursting in air” are dismembering people, families and homes, not providing the wholesome entertainment we see on the Fourth of July. It is a child crying in the street over a mutilated corpse that was once his mother, coming back twenty years later to avenge her loss. It is a line of caskets containing our sons, daughters, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, and friends . . . that seemingly has no end. It is a hole dug in the ground, then filled to capacity with pieces of flesh, and yes, it is the enemy being tortured by our good ole boys, who just went too far.

You wanted war?

You got war, it is never clean, and you have no room to complain.

Caveat Emptor

Let the buyer beware.

In my humble opinion, if you think war is ever an answer, get used to the cost, and if you can’t afford it, maybe it is time to learn how to solve our problems some other way.