The problem of War is that it utterly fantastic for the powers that be. Oh that heady rush of power as things burn and are Conquered. How overwhelmingly masculine that can make one feel- the ultimate dick wave at the entire planet pissing on another country, and how sweetly rich the spoils of war. Plus it's a great way to rob civil liberties of your country or convince the poor they don't need so much, for we all must make the great sacrifice to the leader's overwhelming ego and pocketbooks. It's all in the Prince by Machiavelli, The Art of War, and other great books. To gather power all in one place, and be the closest thing to Napoleon we can get in this day in age. Napoleon, Alexander, Attilla, Charlemagne, Ghenkis Khan.... great men. Remembered men. Who would not want to be that?
But we have a generation of Americans taught to be more sensitive. We no longer think about Epics, we think about Private Ryan, each soldier a brave and courageous individual just trying to survive doing what he is told. Believing that if all the soldiers do what they are told, they can all survive. No one talks about amortization in war, the "necessary" sacrifice of an expected percentage of men in any encounter. We worry about if our neighbors and our sons and our husbands and our fathers and our daughters and our wives and our mothers are getting enough to eat, if they have body armor, if they are doing anything dangerous, if they are warm enough over there. It irritates me when a quilting group with which I am affiliated starts talking about sending active soldiers quilts, because they simply cannot enjoy that luxury. But I can't send enough cookies to that young woman who has taken it upon herself to make a quilt for every single wounded soldier who comes home. And yes, she's made several hundred and plans to make thousands more. This is a job she could do for the rest of her life.
I chaff at the loss of my civil liberties. At the artificial increase in the cost of gas and the complete and utter lack of viable alternatives. And how I am getting poorer every week this war goes on. Not just via taxes, but in the rising cost of my daily life from groceries to lights and heat for my house. I am grateful none of my family are actively serving in the military, so I don't have to worry about them, but I still worry about the nameless to me out there, and the few friends I have made that are serving. And it's just so stupid and pointless of a conflict. I want to scream and punch and kick - just have a lovely tantrum like I did when I was little, but dammit that won't help. I do little things, and I sincerely hope that my voice is heard more than a drop in the ocean, wearing away at the shore.
And working where I do now, man, it's hell on my depression, because I feel for every one of these people, even though I will never meet any of them. I think I may have to seek alternative employment just not to have to cope with it, and feel terribly guilty about that. I wish I could get a job doing something Positive for the planet and for myself.