Wednesday 4/28/04

 

AN ARMY OF McVEIGH'S

 

Picture this scenario:

You're a 20 year old Army private making about $1100 a month. Your tour in Iraq has been repeatedly extended, to the point where you've been "In Country" for more than a year. You have a pretty young wife and a toddler back in the real world, both of whom miss you terribly. The letters you've received have been few and far between, each darker in tone than the last. You've got big problems back home: A lonely young wife and too much month left over after the end of the money.

...But you know everything's gonna be alright, because you know in your heart you're one of the lucky ones.

You've survived late-night patrols, gut-ripping Dysentary, and the blistering Baghdad summer. You've eaten and snorted untold pounds of desert sand and ingested God knows what quantity of Depleted Uranium Dust along the way. You've choked down MRE's and gone without adequate water. You've witnessed unspeakable acts of wanton destruction, and participated in Crimes Against Humanity that will haunt your dreams for as long as you shall live.

...And yet you know in your heart you're one of the lucky ones.

At Baghdad International you feel your heart pound with anticipation instead of fear. You smile wearily as you follow a group of your compadres up the ramp to board the C-130 Transport back to Life. And as you take your seat and begin to strap yourself in, you know in your heart you're one of the lucky ones. You're young and full of self-confidence. The troubles at home will be resolved with your imminent return.

The air inside the aircraft is warm and stale. You close your eyes and wait patiently for the engines to kick over. You quickly become lost in thoughts thousands of miles away.

....Fifteen minutes go by. A half an hour. Diminishing oxygen. Rising temperaures. A murmur swells amongst the troops.

....But you're not worried. This is just typical Army bullshit. Pilot probably overslept. You relax, confident you're gonna be homeward bound momentarily. Because, after all, you're one of the lucky ones.

Another twenty minutes go by.

You're semi-comatose when the Sergeant's voice blares across the aircraft's PA system. At first you think it's just part of a bad dream, because you can't believe what you think you might have just heard. But as the murmur grows to a crescendo you realize that what you just heard wasn't a dream. You've just been informed that your orders to return stateside have been rescinded (again!), and that your company will be remaining in Iraq for yet another 90 days.... through another tortuous Iraqi summer.

You're numb with shock as you disembark from the aircraft. You swallow back the bile, and find it difficult to comprehend the shear callousness and contempt your government has clearly shown. Is this what the Bush2 Administration means when they preach SUPPORT THE TROOPS?

The numbness starts to wear off. Feelings of deep confusion rush in to fill the void, and soon you begin to ask yourself questions.

Questions like: How come, in a year's time, we haven't found a single WMD?... And why, if we're "liberating" them, do the Iraqi people so detest Americans? ...Why are we fighting in Iraq at all, when it was mostly Saudis aboard the jetliners that crashed into the WTC and Pentagon on 9/11/2001? ...And why is it my family has to rely on a Food Bank back home when I'm fighting along side "private contractors" that are raking in as much as $1000 a day of taxpayer's dollars.... AND I'M A TAXPAYER!. What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

And then a little later on, in a natural progression, confusion yields to anger. And anger with no outlet festers and rots. So, in order to survive, the Organism, will TURN INWARD or SEEK OUTLETS for the anger.

 

If you were this soldier how might you react?

Would your thoughts borne of such frustrations likely be depressive? You betcha! Perhaps even suicidal? Goddamn right! Or might your anger fester and take you in the other direction, toward homicide? Seeing as you are already well armed, as well as practiced in the art of death, perhaps the Homicidal Reaction is the most likely of scenarios..... But nothing states this Reaction must occur immediately. It could take some time, like a slow growing Mcveigh. Maybe six months or a year. Maybe a decade or more.....

Now I'm not making this up! Something very much like this occurred last week in Iraq when Secretary Rumsfeld pulled the rug out from under 20,000 troops who were scheduled to rotate out.

I mean, can you imagine?

Don't know exactly why, but that story made me think about Timothy McVeigh. You know who I'm talkin' about. The guy who supposedly "single-handedly" blew up the Federal Bulding in Oklahoma City; the same Tim McVeigh that Attorney General J. Edgar Ashcroft hurriedly rushed off to a lethal injection despite the discovery of some SEVERAL THOUSAND pages of evidence that HAD NOT BEEN TURNED OVER TO THE DEFENSE. That Timothy McVeigh.

.......Psychologically speaking, Timothy McVeigh was not born a monster. His metamorphosis began in the Army during Gulf War 1, when thousands of fleeing Iraqis were mowed down on the "Highway Of Death". That was where McVeigh first learned to distrust the government. He returned to the States frustrated and disillusioned (Just like the kids coming back from Gulf War 2 will be). But it took a CATALYZING EVENT to bring McVeigh's hatred and frustration frothing to the surface: It was the grotesque episode in Waco, Texas.

Action-Reaction. Just basic physics at work.

The sad truth for America remains: Nobody knows how many Timothy McVeigh's are being created on a daily basis during our Marvelous Adventure in Mesopotamia.

I guess only time will tell.