Bring Them Home

Here in the U.S., today is Memorial Day, when we remember our soldiers, particularly those who gave their lives in battle.

Each year I put out my flags. Little ones along the road. A big one hanging on the porch. A bed-sized one draped in my bay window. That one is particularly important to me, as it was presented at the memorial service for my Grandpa, who served in the Pacific during WWII. I think of him when I see the flag, I think of my great uncle, who fought at the Battle of the Bulge, and I think of others.

But this year Memorial Day is different for me. This year my sweet, young niece is in Iraq. Soon she will be going street to street, facing the odds, where fully 65% of American soldiers who are wounded are wounded by improvised explosives, and the effects of it are devestating. Brain injuries are common. 3500 have died so far, and tens of thousands have been wounded. I have good reason to be concerned.

I hope my neice will return unharmed, but I doubt whe will be quite as sweet when she comes back, wounded or not. War spoils more than peace.

More so than ever I long to put an end to this unjustified war, a war built on lies, a war that seems to serve little or no purpose to protect the interests of America. It's another Vietnam, where even the soldiers who are fighting there see no reason to be there, and the people we are "liberating" don't want us there. I've lost a lot of pride in my nation in the last five years.

So this year the only flag I am flying is my Grandpa's, in memory of the nation as it used to be, the soldiers who fought from the heart, and the wars which were justified by more than greed. I just don't have the heart to fly the other flags this year.