Going to War

I never thought much about going to war, I mean personally, but lately the idea is not so distant. I have several friends in the marines, and another who is going into the reserves next monday and I can't help but wonder if they will be sent if this conflict escalates. It's a terrible thought.

I wasn't around for Viet Nam, like many here were, so the idea of people I know going into dangerous combat has always been a distant one. It's just not something I worried about. Now that has changed. Now when I see the picture of the soldiers, beaten, bruised, waiting to be tried in Yugoslavia, I can't help but think that they could have just as easily have been Mike, Josh, and Trevor on the front page of the paper. What would I feel if it were them? Sorrow, anger? Lament, rage? Would I want the war to stop, or would I want to kill their captors? This isn't something I read in the paper or watch on the TV anymore. These are lives, human lives, human lives my age, human lives my age from towns just like mine.

If, god forbid, an extended ground war ensues it is not entirely unthinkable that my draft card will cease to be just something I got when I recieved my driver's lisence, and turn into a ticket to a place and venue entirely different than dealing with IT managers and clients. I am exactly that age. I am exactly the type they would send.

I know it's premature to worry about that, but I can't help but think about it.

© copyright, 1999, Terry Howard
Confirm html 3.2 validation.

Best of Socks | Gallery | FAQ | Subscribe