This was published Tuesday in the Kenosha, WI paper, the fourth “My Turn” column she won a contest to write:
We all know a lot more about the war now
My daughter Maggie went to her first dance with a boy named Evan and I worried about the usual things. I was the chauffeur that night, privy to extra detail, so there was less left to my imagination. Maggie wore a puffy, flowing dress and was excited in the glittery, giggly way of a fourteen year old. Evan wore a new suit, his gelled hair glinting in the photograph I snapped. He shyly presented Maggie with a corsage, a card and a heart-shaped necklace. They dined at an Applebee’s, while I made myself invisible, eating in a far corner with a friend. When we dropped them off at the school after the usual admonishments, Evan listened solemnly while Maggie rolled her eyes. When I picked her up later, she chattered away. But it was late; and the fact that her first dance was a happy one was enough information for me. In fact, I struggle now to recount these few details from that night.
Last week I visited the Vietnam Memorial Wall. As everyone knows, the names of the American soldiers who died in the war are arranged chronologically, in order of the date of their death. The wall starts out low, but as it extends down the walk it increases in height in order to accommodate the increased number of casualties. I know the memorial is a powerful tribute - but I didn’t expect to burst into tears.
Vietnam was not exactly my war, although it was to my older brother and sisters. I respect the impact of Vietnam, but again it was not really my war. Iraq, on the other hand, is my war. As a citizen, I care deeply about this issue. As a parent of a 17-year old son, I also care, in a different, more visceral way. However, the reason I was grieving at the wall was because on Christmas Eve, Maggie’s first boyfriend, Army PFC Evan Bixler died in Iraq.
The newspaper reports this information about Evan’s death: He was the victim of indirect fire. He wanted desperately to serve his country. He had been in Iraq less than a year before he died. He loved being a soldier. He left behind a heartbroken family and a distraught girlfriend. He was buried in the same cemetery as his friend, who died in Iraq months earlier. The details are not really important. That Evan’s life ends, at age twenty-one, is important.
I believe it is also important to be truthful about the Iraq war. In my circles, political debate is a great way to spend an afternoon. And nothing is more fun than to say, “I told you so†which is probably why that theme dominates most discourse. Was waging war, against a country that did not attack us, without sufficient resources, and without numerous other essentials –a sound strategy, valid intelligence, viable timeline– a good idea? The answer doesn’t matter. The focus of debate now is whether to support the president, who is looking to garner support for the “surge†of troops to be sent to Iraq.
So here is the truth: The “surge†is an “escalationâ€. Our president (the Decider) asserts that our country should not “cut and run.” But our country includes citizens like Evan Bixler, or the other 3,000 plus Americans who have already died. Evan was a patriot who put his life on the line for me. While I am sharing the ordinary details of life with Evan’s first girlfriend, my twenty-one year old daughter; her thesis topic; her graduation party; her apartment next year—Evan’s family is sharing an entirely different, heartbreaking set of details. I believe I owe it to him to consider very carefully any military strategy which sacrifices more lives in the hopeless quagmire of the Iraq War. Many politicians, especially those running for office, are now being asked to justify their 2002 vote in support of the war. One common answer is some version of, If I knew then what I know now, I would not have voted for it.
That’s a logical answer. So when the president asks for support of his latest plan, The Surge, let’s be clear: You do know now. We all know now. And some of us, who have lost friends and family in this war, know it more than others.
