The author (left), and his son (right).
My son is 14 years, 9 months old. Our country has been at war for all but 18 months of his life. We, as a nation, have been at war for pretty much my son's entire life. His entire life.
On Wednesday night, President Obama stated that the United States would "degrade, and ultimately destroy, ISIL through a comprehensive and sustained counter-terrorism strategy."
We have been at war for virtually all of my son's life.
We are going to war once again. Yes, the president says that we will not have boots on the ground in combat, and I want to believe him. But I do not. I know we will have to have combat troops on the ground because you cannot win wars with air power alone.
My son has never known a peaceful world in his lifetime.
Follow below the fold for more.
I served in U.S. Army at the end of the Cold War, pulling duty on the East/West German border at OP Alpha. It is a museum now, a relic from a conflict that that seems a lifetime ago. I stood in the crowd in Berlin that day when President Reagan said, "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" While he was an awful president, he did have a flair for the dramatic, and I cheered for that line. Having served on that border, there was nothing more I wanted to see than that massive scar running through Berlin and Germany to be healed.
And now, my son is at an age where he is susceptible to the illusion of glory that is portrayed of war in our culture.
As a Cold War veteran, I remember watching the Berlin Wall come down with my father, a World War II veteran. He saw that wall go up. We both watched it come down. And I knew as that wall was coming down that people would be crossing the border near OP Alpha. The Cold War was over, my war was over.
My son has grown up in a world where "terrorism" is the enemy.
On September 11, 2001, my son was just eight days shy of being 18 months old. His entire world changed and he had no idea what happened. Truth be told, I'm not sure I even understand all of the implications of that day. I'm not sure I ever will. To my son, that attack is something that has always been in our history, always will be. Much like December 7, 1941, is for many of us—a date on which something bad happened.
On August 6, 2007, my son lost a cousin he never met in Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Funny thing about that name, Operation Iraqi Freedom—a war to free the Iraqis, fought by Americans. Too much blood, American and Iraqi, was spilled. If the Iraqis wanted freedom, I still ask myself, why did we have to fight for it for them?
In three years and three months my son will be 18 years old.
I don't see our wars ending before he is 18, and I know I don't want him to go off and fight a war for someone else. We have been at war for almost his entire life. A friend and Army brother who was wounded in the first Gulf War once said to me that going into the Army is a good way to end up dead. I agree.
I do not want my son to end up dead.
I will do all I can within my power to prevent my son from going into the military. Don't get me wrong: I'm proud of my service during the Cold War, I'm proud of my father's service and that of all of my relatives going back to the Civil War (yes, we have had someone serving in every war going back to the Civil War).
My son will sit this one out.
Our family has given enough. Our nation has done enough. It's time to let someone else, some other country, send their sons and daughters into harm's way. They can not and will not have my son to chew up in the war machine.
And I'm left wondering: What in the FUCK is wrong with people? Seriously? Why in the hell do we have to keep killing each other?