This comes from the LiveJournal of "Ginmar," an Army reservist serving in Iraq, and is posted with her permission.
"The Summer Soldier"
I got my ballot the other day, and it was relief to find that it didn't have any blood stains on it. With all the hits we've been taking lately, that was all the cautious good news one could find.
I left the post office, and looked up at the palace on the hill: Saddam's palace, now a place where soldiers from several countries are bumbling around, trying to bring democracy to this place. Some of them have only recently acquired it themselves in their own countries. One of the most touching things I've ever seen was the Prime Minister of Bulgaria, tearing up as his country was inducted into NATO.
Democracy is one of those things that people look for when they see that palace on the hill. They want it to be big and shiny, with trumpets and armies and flags. Instead, I think of that man, trying not to weep in front of the world. I have no idea what his thoughts could be. I've never really thought about what it means to be a citizen of a democracy, because it's always been there for me.
It shouldn't be a big thing, this concept of freedom, and the idealist in me thinks that every war is a failure of humanity. That palace on the hill has gorgeous marble, crudely carved. And from that vantage point one could almost see Saddam's eyes, looking for enemies. Yet the people of Iraq still smile at us, offer us tea, smiles, handshakes, able even in this war of trying to find some common ground. These are people who hope for freedom, for self-determination.
Some people say, "My country, love it or leave it," and insist that that's patriotism.
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