Yesterday I was driving to the range with my 11 year old son. I live very close to Los Angeles National Cemetary, where over 85K are interned. Today, driving north on the 405 freeway I pointed out thousands of small flags on the individual gravesites. My son, being his typical opinionated self, stated, "wars are very sad."
And of course this was being said when he knew in 20 minutes or so we'd be sending rounds downrange into paper targets, much to his delight. The irony (on one level) and appropriateness (on another level) were not lost on me.
As we drove I composed a thesis on the topic of Memorial Day and wars. Of course most of it spilled right out of my brains before I could carve out a bit of time to actually write things down. So forgive the ramble and the somewhat fragmented nature of this, but it is what it is. This morning I heard a familiar drone and told Calvin to run outside quickly. He had no idea what was going on (although he's seen them before, just forgotten), but I knew the sound of radial engines when I hear them. A small squadron (seems like it shrinks a little each year) of WWII era single engine planes.
This led to the $64 question from Calvin: "why do we have wars?" The short answer I gave him was that people often can't get along with each other, and things escalate to eventually become wars. Simplistic perhaps, but I'm not sure how to answer that.
So instead of trying to figure out why we have them, I was drawn into thoughts of those that have served. Some willingly, others less so. My father joined the Navy at 16 to go fight in the Pacific Theater. As a corpsman he saw countless men die and picked up the pieces of both the living and the dead. I cannot imagine such things. And I pray that my son will never have to. My brother wanted to join the Air Force in the early 60's and go to Vietnam. Turns out that while his eyesight was good enough for his private pilot license, it was not good enough to fly Phantoms. So instead he was very happy to be able to find a way to be 4F due to a bad back. I have no comment on that.
In fact, I can't really comment too much on the whole topic, other than the imagined horrors that my father faced, and those that I pray my son will never have to endure. "War is Hell" is perhaps a tired cliché, but seems appropriate. It is simetimes disturbing to note my 11 year old's interest in weapons and warfare, but I remember being the same way. My books on WWII, especially aircraft, were all over the house. I could draw pretty much all of the Luftwaffe's arsenal. And my friends and I would argue about whether the FW190 was superior to the P-51.
I almost joined the Air Force Reserve towards the end of my "lost years." No telling how it would have ended up, but my guess would be not good. I don't think that hitting bottom in the military is ideal, but there is no ideal place to flounder. A good friend was in the AFR at the time, and he's had an interesting run. He went to Iraq awhile back as a civilian contractor as his marriage dissolved. He got to see some disturbing things over there. At least disturbing compared to home.
I suppose that disturbing is all relative. As my son and I walked to and from Peets today, there were three different homeless people sleeping in various places. I always wonder what their stories are, and how they got that way. I find it disturbing, and in the dark moments, fear that I'll end up that way. Not for any particularly valid reason, but for some (all?) "madness" isn't that far away from "sanity."
Some of my liberal friends think I'm already "mad" when I talk of going to the range and having a good stockpile of ammo. Others screw up their faces when I say that I essentially work for the MIC, albeit in training and education, trying to keep people *alive*. I've adopted a standard message for them, and I told it to my son this morning when he asked me about why we have war. The planet is inhabited by humans, and invariably humans will disagree. And some will take that disagreement to the extreme. As long as we have people, we will have wars. Whether due to "original sin" or "dharma", or whatever you want to attribute it to, people are imperfect, and they often act out with violence. And so we are saddled with the reality of war, and hence the necessity of a military.
Out of necessity can come honor. While there will always be atrocities (after all, humans are involved), out of the horror of war there will always be those who rise up and sacrifice. I cannot begin to imagine the pain, sorrow and terror of those that have served, and I can never thank them enough. Without those who lie beneath the small American flags in the cemetery not four blocks away, I would not be able to type this.
And so we celebrate, but I won't be having a bbq or going to the big sale. I'm going to ride into the hills and sit for awhile. Call my dad and say, "thanks" and tell him I love him. And enjoy the freedoms that others have given us. It is a gift that must not be squandered or taken lightly. Today there is no liberal or conservative. There are only citizens who owe a great debt to people who went where others couldn't or wouldn't. God speed.