effect and cause
this memorial day i've dusted off my copy of gary b. nash's "the unknown american revolution", and i continue to be struck by how far from the mark our "patriotism" and "support the troops" memes continue to be to this day. the average american volunteering (VOLUNTEERING!) to fight, bleed and die for this country, from the revolutionary war to this day, is not our pat tillman/audie murphy "best and brightest" quintessence we all enjoy to see so proudly arrayed in their photographs full of dress uniforms and smartly pressed (there's a pun there--one of my better ones--don't overlook it) details, recounted in tales of glowing bravery and heroism. the average american volunteering to fight, bleed and die for this country continues to be the man almost to a man all of us prefer to walk past on the street with eyes averted and haste in our step. yes, our freedom was won, and ever since defended in largest part by none so many as the drunk and decrepit derelicts who our society shuns and marginalizes and tramples in its inexorable rush to congratulate itself for being the best that's ever been. today, tomorrow and monday, of all days, i'm going to try to remember it's important all year long to do better.
we treat PTSD and see effect of a certain cause, but how often do we pause to reflect on the greater truth, that it's often our most troubled, vulnerable and unloved citizens who somehow find the courage, strength and love for the rest of us that they will lay down their lives if called to stand up for a better way in the first place? i feel myself fortunate to have been able to trace much of my ancestry back to the american revolutionary war and beyond, and i'll tell you that the close reason myself, my sons and my daughter could not otherwise take a place among the sons and daughters of the american revolution is because the ancestors of ours who fought, bled and died for that cause were the childless uncles whose stories can only be inferred from the little record that remains. (leaving me all the more stunned and in awe of the sacrifices of the soldiers answering the call on april 19th, 1776, who were, perhaps completely unique in our history, virtually comprised of almost ALL of the men to a man, and not just the most dissolute and without their own family among them). perhaps only in world war II, when volunteerism was the rule rather than the exception, did we see a fighting force somewhat balanced among all the demographics of men in this country. (apologies for the generalization--women have been able to step up only so recently as to make historical reflection impossible, except to point out the anecdotes of molly pitcher and others to show that more would have if they could, and many still did and do anyway). but when we record the incidence of suicide and drug dependence and alcoholism among these men, do we really see?
we owe a debt here in this country that is as deep and endless as has been ever owed. in the history of the world, a government by, of and for the people is so rare as to be almost perfectly forgotten now that we have ours, and so many others have taken our example. but even more perfectly forgotten is to whom we owe this debt.
when you and i see the next veteran "down on his luck", i hope we can consider that even this dearth of good fortune is an embarrassment of riches compared to the dark and endlessly quiet hole into which so many of his friends have been buried. i'm overcome with tears every time i recall my uncle's funeral, and the silent honor guard of broken men who stood silent vigil around the edges and to the back of the crowd gathered at his graveside while his earthly remains were lowered. we had family beside us in our grief. these men, nameless to almost all but each other, one by one become dust to their dust as each salute is fired over their heads and over their broken bodies. my uncle never spoke more than an instant before he caught himself of the brothers he had to leave behind. it was almost as if it was of a quality of people he knew in his heart the rest of us--happy and healthy and safe and free--could never really know.
for how could we know? how could we know the loneliness and shame of being someone with whom no one of "polite society" prefers share shelter and table and company, and how could we know the simple courage to fight for us even so?
i feel the value of my freedom--i plan to thank a vet, and spend a quiet moment reflecting on those who did not get to come home to enjoy their part of it. i hope everyone can do that much today.
we treat PTSD and see effect of a certain cause, but how often do we pause to reflect on the greater truth, that it's often our most troubled, vulnerable and unloved citizens who somehow find the courage, strength and love for the rest of us that they will lay down their lives if called to stand up for a better way in the first place? i feel myself fortunate to have been able to trace much of my ancestry back to the american revolutionary war and beyond, and i'll tell you that the close reason myself, my sons and my daughter could not otherwise take a place among the sons and daughters of the american revolution is because the ancestors of ours who fought, bled and died for that cause were the childless uncles whose stories can only be inferred from the little record that remains. (leaving me all the more stunned and in awe of the sacrifices of the soldiers answering the call on april 19th, 1776, who were, perhaps completely unique in our history, virtually comprised of almost ALL of the men to a man, and not just the most dissolute and without their own family among them). perhaps only in world war II, when volunteerism was the rule rather than the exception, did we see a fighting force somewhat balanced among all the demographics of men in this country. (apologies for the generalization--women have been able to step up only so recently as to make historical reflection impossible, except to point out the anecdotes of molly pitcher and others to show that more would have if they could, and many still did and do anyway). but when we record the incidence of suicide and drug dependence and alcoholism among these men, do we really see?
we owe a debt here in this country that is as deep and endless as has been ever owed. in the history of the world, a government by, of and for the people is so rare as to be almost perfectly forgotten now that we have ours, and so many others have taken our example. but even more perfectly forgotten is to whom we owe this debt.
when you and i see the next veteran "down on his luck", i hope we can consider that even this dearth of good fortune is an embarrassment of riches compared to the dark and endlessly quiet hole into which so many of his friends have been buried. i'm overcome with tears every time i recall my uncle's funeral, and the silent honor guard of broken men who stood silent vigil around the edges and to the back of the crowd gathered at his graveside while his earthly remains were lowered. we had family beside us in our grief. these men, nameless to almost all but each other, one by one become dust to their dust as each salute is fired over their heads and over their broken bodies. my uncle never spoke more than an instant before he caught himself of the brothers he had to leave behind. it was almost as if it was of a quality of people he knew in his heart the rest of us--happy and healthy and safe and free--could never really know.
for how could we know? how could we know the loneliness and shame of being someone with whom no one of "polite society" prefers share shelter and table and company, and how could we know the simple courage to fight for us even so?
i feel the value of my freedom--i plan to thank a vet, and spend a quiet moment reflecting on those who did not get to come home to enjoy their part of it. i hope everyone can do that much today.
posted by kad barma at 10:39 AM
1 Comments:
Best contribution to veterans is to make sure our country does not send them to war for unjustified purposes.
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