I have a history of speaking out against wars, and violence in general. I was a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War. When I was drafted, I spent two years working in a hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas instead of serving two years in the army and being sent to fight a war. I was then and still remain proud of the fact that I stood up for my convictions.
I am also proud to say that I was not one of those who yelled epithets and treated the returning servicemen badly, those who either chose to go or were forced to go to Vietnam. I knew far too many who were not as lucky as I, who had to serve. I knew far too many, who believed they were doing the right thing by serving their country, right or wrong. I knew far too many who were killed or came back from the war maimed, either physically or mentally. War takes its toll. I am enough of a realist to know that there are times when a person has to protect himself or his family, when a citizen has to protect his nation and his people, and a fight is necessary. 90% + of the time, however, it can be avoided.
In 1985, I met my wife, Babs, and became a part of her family, as she became a part of mine. Her father was a proud Marine who fought island to island in the Pacific Theater during World War II. Her brother-in-law was a Vietnam Vet, who downplayed the experience, but was a proud member of the American Legion. In time they came to know my experience as I came to know theirs, but I never once suggested they were wrong and they never once told me I was wrong. We were family, and everyone has their reasons. We respected one another.
Just recently, my father-in-law, 92 year old former Marine, and my mother-in-law, 88 year old former WAVE from World War II, were part of a group of World War II vets who were flown to Washington D.C. to visit monuments and to be honored for their contributions to this nation. My mother-in-law was touched that in Washington D.C. hundreds of people showed up in the pouring rain to honor them. She was amazed that hundreds more met them at the airport in Mason City, Iowa when they returned. She was appalled that her hometown newspaper in St. Ansgar, Iowa ignored them.
She wrote a letter to the newspaper and saw to it that a notice of the experience appeared in print. She then wrote a letter about the whole thing to Babs, and her heartfelt eloquence touches me at my core. This is a woman who grew up in an age when one unquestioningly accepted the actions of the USA simply because it is your country and your country is on the side of right. This is a woman who, for any foibles I may think she has, has garnered a little bit of wisdom in her 88 years.
In her letter to the St. Ansgar Enterprise-Journal my mother-in-law, Dorothy Brasch, had this to say, "The rain was almost a fitting background as we viewed the World War II monuments. The awesome monument of sculptured gold stars, one for every 100 Americans killed in combat: 'The Price of Freedom, Lest We Forget.' These monuments are not by any means a celebration of war, but instead a tribute to all the men and women who died for our freedom." I am in awe of her eloquence.
Then, as if I were not enough in awe, she had this to add in a personal note to her daughter, my wife, "We have had constant rain for days and it is getting depressing. I became even more depressed tonight when Dick Cheney appeared on TV in his tuxedo at his fund-raising dinner, having the audacity to say Obama was taking too long to send 40,000 troops to Afghanistan. I've seen enough gold stars and shed enough tears over all those men who died in the war. Enough wars. they don't solve anything." There is more in those words than I ever have or could say on the topic. I am choked up and I salute you Dorothy Brasch. Your heart and your head are in the right place. Would that we all had your wisdom.
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