I talked to a guy this weekend, a Viet Nam veteran. He was there in 67-68, a rough time [the buildup]. He talked about his childhood friend getting killed when they were "on point." He said it was years before he was ever able to talk about the war, or his friend. He came home to a different world, he said. But then he said something I’d never thought of. He said he was proud that he’d served. He’d done his job. We had previously talked about how the WWII veterans never talked about the war much after they came home. But then he said, "But it was different for us. We were losers. We didn’t win the war like they did."
I’d thought they didn’t talk about the war when they came back because there was so much opposition to it, so much inappropriate anger at the returning soldiers. We’d already talked about how the Iraq War is different – how people who oppose the war are being careful not to blame the soldiers, who support our troops even if they don’t support the war. But he obviously had not talked about his experience in Viet Nam at least in part because he thought we were disappointed that they couldn’t win it, or he was disappointed that they couldn’t win it. It made me very sad to hear him talk, though once he said it, I understood what he felt.
Then I thought of our Iraq War soldiers, our future veterans, and what it’s going to feel like for them. They’re fighting a war in a place where every single person they see might be a suicide bomber. They’re fighting a war that can never be won. They’re fighting a war that we will look back on with shame.
That’s one hell of a horrible thing to do to a young person. The U.S. death toll keeps rising. And for every dead soldier, there are a number of surviving friends who are going to carry the loss, what may seem a senseless loss, for the rest of their lives.
I sure hope we do a better job of taking care of them when they come home.
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