There was a collision this week in the Persian Gulf involving a nuke sub. Of course, I couldn’t find any info on CNN.com or any other US site, but I did finally find the info at The Guardian (UK site). The boat was the USS Philadelphia, and not the USS Annapolis.
So both me and my mom can sleep another night.
I’m jumpy a lot these days when it comes to the military. I worry a lot about my brother’s safety. Especially during the war. Almost 2,000 young men and women have died in this war. And we still have no plan for leaving.
I’ve read some pretty blistering comments that folks (non-military, of course, sitting in their armchairs at home, protected by people like my brother) that have written, some directly to me, who claim that it’s inappropriate to complain about the consequences of the war because “they knew what they were signing up for.”
Bullshit.
My brother signed up in the early 90s, after the first Gulf War. It was historically one of safest times in our country’s history. It was a job. A well-paying job that let him tour the world and play with computers.
And no, I don’t doubt my brother’s commitment nor his honor nor his bravery for one second. He knew – and he knows – that when he signed up, there was the possibility that he would have to fight in a war.
But consider this. During his whole lifetime, there had been only one “war” involving the US and that was the first Gulf War. The last troops were officially pulled out of Vietnam before my brother was ever born. His generation – like mine – didn’t know what war really meant. It wasn’t the same as when my great-grandfather enlisted in the Navy during World War II or when my grandfather served during the Korean War. There was no real Communist threat, no super power other than the US, no significant conflict involving the US. My brother signed up during peace time.
He has always done what has been asked of him. He has served in the Navy for more than ten years. He has been promoted several times and is one of the highest ranking enlisted men in the sub service.
He has seen things that I wish he hadn’t. He has stories to tell. Some of the stories remind me that our government doesn’t always tell us everything. We have been more involved in conflicts around the globe than CNN ever reports.
And we have always known that when he leaves, it’s dangerous. He’s in subs, so when I hear things like the Kursk sinking or the last Russian sub near disaster, it always makes me worry for him.
But don’t tell me that I’m not a good American because I worry about my brother. None of us are prepared to hear that our loved ones have died, no matter how just the cause. And when the cause may not, in fact, be just, it’s even more difficult.
According to my mom, my sister-in-law (who is pregnant and will have her baby while my brother is gone) told my brother that she didn’t want to know where he was going. But we all know. And we all worry. And that doesn’t make us bad people or bad Americans. And I am tired of hearing from a government that thinks otherwise.
Neither Mr. Bush, nor Mr. Cheney, nor Mr. Rumsfeld, so far as I know have immediate family in the military. And for that, I don’t want to hear them talking about “sacrifice.” None of them knows what it means.
My brother serves with some good people. And each of them has a mother, daughter, wife, father, brother, somebody who worries about them. That’s the way our country should be. God help us if we become so jaded as a nation that we are willing to sacrifice our children, our brothers, our fathers, our sisters, our mothers without ever worrying about their safety, without ever questioning why.
I know T can’t read any of this cause he’s out to sea. But I hope he knows that I miss him and that I think about him. And I hope that he comes home soon.
