nobody is here to tell the story . . .

“Nobody is here to tell the story of our people in this war . . . ”

Except citizen-journalists like Michael Yon[*1] , reporting from Anbar Province, Iraq:

On this patrol, a soldier told me the story a young Iraqi girl whogot shot in a firefight that blew out some important parts of herabdomen. Others around her were killed, but she would live, with acolostomy bag and no chance of ever having children. And when thesoldier visited her, he said the young girl was not worried about whoshot her, or who else had died around her, or what would happen to hertomorrow. She was worried about her goats. She was in the hospital shotto pieces worrying about her goats.

This does not look like a big or intense war to people at home. Itdoesn’t look like that because we have so few troops actually incombat. But for those who are truly fighting, this is a brutal deathmatch where every mistake can get them killed, or make worldwideheadlines. Yet when the enemy drills out eyes or tortures people withacid, it never resonates.

There is an explanation for why when some of these young soldiersand Marines go home and people are trying to talk with them they mightbe caught silently staring out a window. Many people back home seem tothink they have an idea what is happening here, but most do not. Andnobody is here to tell the story of our people in this war.

War is horror.  Sometimes you get to choose your wars, and sometimes the war chooses you.  We have the great luxury of choosing a war “over there” as opposed to a war over here.  This one has nothing to do with Democrats and Republicans.  Some people understand this.  Others do not.  Yet.