Vietnam to Iraq: The guilt of not going

“I must say, I’m a little envious. If I were slightly younger and not employed here, I think it would be a fantastic experience to be on the front lines of helping this young democracy succeed. It must be exciting for you . . . in some ways romantic, in some ways, you know, confronting danger. You’re really making history, and thanks.”
-W. to some soldiers right around the the five year mark.

Yesterday sitting in traffic I saw a bumper sticker that said “send the Bush twins,” and I thought about the quote at the top of the page. It is worth revisiting W.’s comments. When I read them, I immediately thought of the “Guilt of not Going”, a theory I came up with a while back. The “Guilt of not Going” is about men who did not serve in the Vietnam War but supported the War in Afghanistan and the Invasion of Iraq. Obviously I do not mean the “whole boomer generation” but a good sized chunk.

Two years ago I talked with my cousin Jim, a Vietnam Veteran, who said many of his male friends have expressed regret for not serving in the Vietnam War; for not serving their country. He speculated that the “regret” was triggered by some yearning for an epic life that all boys dream about. War is intertwined in a man’s DNA. So many have gone to battle, we watch movies about it, read about it and grow up playing with toy guns and GI Joes.

We have over 4,000 American deaths, who knows how many Iraqi’s are dead and how many In the Valley of Elah situations have come and gone without a line in a newspaper. How many American soldiers have committed suicide? How many have run away? How many have killed their wives? How many have kept torture videos on their cell phones?

W.’s quote at the top of the page had two words that made me cringe; romantic and envious. What could possibly be “romantic” about running over a child with a truck? It’s peculiar he is “envious” of the troops, he had the chance to “serve” in Vietnam, he fled to Alabama and hid.

I want to know if there really is this undercurrent of guilt for not fighting in one’s youth that fuels this current blood lust. Is that a crackpot theory or is there something to it? Most men I have talked with in their 50’s didn’t want to go to Vietnam and are against the Occupation of Iraq. But some of those same men believe we went into Afghanistan and Iraq with good intentions.

I married the top W. quote with the “Guilt of not Going” theory together even if they don’t connect at first glance. Both the regret of boomer’s and W.’s detachment to the seriousness of war struck me. Even John McCain said “anyone who romanticizes war is a fool and a fraud”. I agree. I am struggling with how to make sense of this occupation and how it has been reluctantly supported by many Americans. There are mind boggling amounts of reason and speculation about “why we are there” and I don’t want to try and tackle them all one by one.


Picture (Reed Wacker): Sign was at the corner of MLK and E. Madison St.

The West is the best

“When I was a little boy I would take a bread knife out of the kitchen door and fantasize about cutting my cheek and having a scar on my face like one of the twin Cobra brothers in G.I. Joe.” - Id the Squid

Every boy who grows up in the West fantasizes about violence and war. Prince Harry is no different. That is why he went to Afghanistan. Now, Prince Harry is back in England and needs a haircut. I saw some footage on CNN about Harry in Afghanistan, the Americans had just arrived, “Now everything is alright in the Empire” Harry quipped. The Sun said Prince William might go as well. The whole thing is ridiculous.

Has anyone seen the movie: In the Valley of Elah? Jesus Fucking Christ...the movie hits the nail on the head. War fucks you up! Hello? Everyone knows that. We are not in some barbaric age where soldiers are heroes and have balls of steel. Fuck. These guys go to war. Run over a fucking toddler in a Humvee. Lose their innocence.

Start dehumanizing every Iraqi by calling them all the same name “Hadji” just like “Charlie” in Vietnam. Torture for fun. And turn into psycho killers. Come home. Kill puppies. Kill wife. Then kill best friends.

Indeed Kill Em All. It all happens in that order. And the sick thing is that it is understandable. When you are trained to kill you are paid to dehumanize a population. You are left to deal with this inhumane way of life all by yourself inside your own private hell. Sounds like any normal person would go fucking nuts even with a million hours of therapy from Dr. Phil.

Sounds real heroic John McCain, you fucking prick. He may bomb Iran and he may bomb Kosovo-- fuck he might just bomb Moscow, Russia and Moscow, Idaho just for good measure. So send the Royal Family of England, yeah...Ok, where do we go from here Bobo? We are Royally Fucked. Why fuck up the prince as well?...I mean I understand the peasants always go to die like dogs in the desert, but now the future king of England wants to get in on the action. Did he watch American Psycho and decide “Fuck Yeah! Lock and Load Baby.” Well Whoopee Fucking Doo. It must have been all the generations of inbreeding that made these geniuses want to kill some ragheads, huh.

Ok for now. I will be back later.

Last night I was talking on the phone with my friend Robbie. He has been involved in grass roots politics for most of his life. He asked me how I was doing and who I was voting for this year. “Obama.” I said. “But, I don’t necessareally think he will deliver on his promises or change much, he seems to be pretty middle of the road policy-wise. I think he could get the most out of the American people and we need an inspirational leader to lift up the general mood of the country. What about you?”

Robby said, “I am in the same boat as you Reed. This reminds me of the 1960 election where Kennedy was an elequent man, but the people pushed him to do things and that is why I am supporting Obama. He seems to be the most likely to listen and be persuaded by public opinion...you know because Bush doesn’t give a shit.” “Yeah Bush doesn’t give a flying fuck.” I said.

“Jacob's getting home soon.” I said. “Yeah on the 19th. We are going to be watching a lot of the NCAA Tournament.” Robby said. “I’ll see you soon then.” And I hung up the phone. C’est la vie.

I took the picture at the I-5 South Roanoke Exit.