I have a son. He is 6 years old and is currently roller blading on our safe little cul de sac in our safe little corner of suburban Massachusetts. From where I sit with my Harpoon IPA and laptop on this impossibly beautiful New England day, I can hear the kids laughing.
After reading this it sounds a lot more special.
Our country has lost over 1032 servicemen and women in Iraq. If you add in all coalition forces, the number is over 2000 (over 700 Iraqi policemen, 66 Brits, and 150 civilian contractor deaths). This pales in comparison to the Iraqi civilian casualty count (now between 12,778 and 14,820). Of course, Iraqi military forces were also decimated in the drive to Baghdad, and no one seems to have an accurate count of how many of them were killed. Yes, they were the enemy. An enemy, as it turns out, that was no threat to this country.
Each one of these numbers was once a smiling, happy, laughing kid. Each one probably took delight in a crisp sunny day that is impossibly beautiful and felt the sun warm their face.
Each one leaves someone behind who is screaming inside at the "why" of it all:
Now my son is dead. How did he die? According to the Army, he was killed on Aug. 13 in western Iraq when an IED -- an "improvised explosive device" -- detonated near his vehicle. According to me, he was killed by the arrogance and ineptitude of George W. Bush aided by Vice President Dick Cheney and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.
Don't let anyone tell you that "as war goes, the casualties are really quite low." Just what is the acceptable death toll for an unjust war?
How many mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, children is it OK to send into the abyss of grief?