The first piece, called
THE LAST CHRISTMAS TREE IN IRAQ, opens a series of articles based on interviews with a man that just returned from Iraq. It is not fiction. The initial post gains a bit more depth and clarity in this rewrite, however, if you already read the earlier OP, feel free to skip down to the title article,
THE SALUTING SANTA.Once upon a time there was a young man, patriotic enough to risk his life to preserve freedom. Call him GI Joe; a war toy.
He had a wife, a life and a strong desire to serve his country, so he joined the Army. Make no mistake, this man was not some weekend warrior, joining for benefits, only to be conscripted into active duty without training in urban warfare. Still, he got no real training in the kind of infighting that earns those too quick on the trigger painful memories of shooting innocents, while it rewards slow-shooting soldiers with death. On the job training became his task-master.
He joined after it was obvious that fighting in Iraq was not going to be a cake-walk like Desert Shield. It matters little if Saddam Hussein had the third largest army in the world. No one will put their life on the line for a tyrant intent on personal gain. In those days, Iraq troops were more than happy to toss weapons into the sand. They perceived invaders as liberators. Anything is better than oppression and tyranny. Perhaps there is a lesson in this for other robber-barons in power. Then again, maybe not, because it is written that a "wise man can learn from a fool but a fool cannot learn from a wise man." It certainly follows that a fool cannot learn from another fool.
Indeed, some might call anyone that joins the army with real war looming on the horizon a fool but defending a value is not foolish, no matter how misguided the individual is when he or she takes the solemn oath to defend country and Constitution, in the name of freedom.
Think what you will. It is easy to form quick opinions, while sitting at a keyboard or in front of the TV, in a comfy arm-chair. It is easy to see deeper truths after youthful ideals ripen into some semblance of wisdom. War can seem quite glorious to a young person, until blood gushes into their lap as they sit crying, while the best friend they will ever know expires. At that point, it no longer matters how you got into a situation, which will haunt you every night until you finally taste the sweetness of death. All that matters is family, friends, perhaps a lover back home and values. Real values, like freedom are priceless. No spoiled brat profiteer who's daddy bought him the presidency knows anything about values or real life. To individuals so insulated from the world, friendship, values and even freedom are nothing but a game. To us, life is more than a bank balance that measures score in a game of attaining power over real people with real values bought with real tears.
When it was stylish, many Americans drove fine big gas-guzzlers around with cute little "support our troops" ribbons stuck to a bumper. Sticker-fads, like people, expire. The stylish war is over. Mark your bumpers with blood. Shove the Constitution so many fine Americans died for right up your gas tank. They all died for nothing, if the Constitution means nothing. Right now, the best way to "support our troops" is by defending those freedoms they swore to uphold, before spilling tears into a pool of blood that was once their best friend. The time of partisan politics is over. If freedom dies, there will be nothing for any American to ever live or die for again. When freedom goes out of style so will dedicated troops and so will the Almighty Dollar.
Yes, when GI Joe marched away into hell, "Support Our Troops" adorned the bumpers of his young wife, and best friend, as they tearfully waved goodbye. I wonder if they spoke of him late at night, as the heat of illicit passion dripped from their naked bodies. He spoke of her every night but his words blew across the desert, with a thousand other soldier-dreams, lost in the heat of a moment. Whether it yields to passion or bullets, flesh is weak.
Again, it is easy to judge from an arm-chair but four years is a long lonely time. At least they had either the decency or lack of guts to refrain from nuking his soul with a "Dear John" letter. Who knows, maybe she did love him, after all. At least he had the comfort of thinking she still cared, as he mounted up each day on a fiber-glass Humvee.
One might think a $600 BILLION Defense budget buys our troops well-armored vehicles, considering that Iraq is laced with IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) and the assumption is finally correct. About three months before the last national election, our government began to see the importance of armoring Humvees that cruise booby-trap laden roadways in Iraq. Until then, it was not only explosive devices that were improvised but also armor on many Humvees. The good news is that there is plenty of scrap metal to scavenge and attach to fiber-glass doors. The bad news is that after Joe and his buddies rigged the shabby armor onto the vehicles, they over-heated and broke shocks. Oh well, war is hell. Maybe it will matter after the Christmas rush Corporate America so relishes starts to subside. For thousands of U.S. Marines, Christmas came early, thanks to Santa-Cher buying them helmut liners to protect their brains when IEDs explode.
Yep, war is indeed hell; especially for Joe's buddy, manning a 50 Caliber at the back of the Humvee. Actually, it became too much hell for him, as he began saying "hell no" when superiors ordered him into "harms way." Four tours of duty is a bit much in any war, "conflict" or "police action." In the Vietnam "Conflict" one tour of duty paid the piper. Generally, anyone gung-ho enough to serve longer did so on a volunteer basis.
What can they do with a soldier so fatigued that he no longer has the heart to kill? Leavenworth Federal Prison is certainly an option, unless some fool decides it is political suicide to start drafting fresh troops into combat. If an unbelievable measure of top-brass resigns, after realizing a lack of boots on the ground spells defeat, then the Roving mentality of money-mongering must make boots stay in place.
Benzoids are a bargain but beefing up the boys and girls on Xanex tends to slow their responses in combat. Still, proscribe the right meds and Johnny and Jannie will march right up the the Devil. "March" might be a bit strong, "stagger" fits better. War is hell, right?
I never met GI Joe before he bravely set out on a quest to preserve freedom. He claims he was a fine young Republican when he left. He's a Democrat now but not a puffed-up idealist that embraces higher ideals of the party. He just wants to vote for Democrats in the future. He seems to think they want to end the war. His buddies are still over there; bleeding, crying and dying. Maybe he can touch a Diebold screen with his one good arm in the next presidential race. Maybe it will matter. The good news is that his wife is once again in love and has big plans for all that disability he might receive. His government wants to know if he saw anyone die up close and personal. His friends want to know why he changed political parties. His soul only wants to know when the nightmares of a best friend bleeding to death in his arms will end.
So, after all this, where is THE LAST CHRISTMAS TREE IN IRAQ?
The way GI Joe tells it, he set up the ONLY Christmas Tree in Iraq, last year. Logically, what he claims cannot be true. Surely there was a Christmas Tree in the U.S. Embassy or some general's office in Baghdad. What is true is that his little tree was the only thing that resembled a Christmas Tree in the immediate vicinity. It really wasn't that much of a Christmas Tree, according to him. In fact, it wasn't even a species remotely related to most Christmas Trees in America. Like a fiber-glass Humvee, he rigged a local plant to look a little like Christmas. It almost sounds silly on the surface. Can you imagine, a sparse Charlie Brown-style smidgen of shrubbery sitting all alone outside his barracks with a tin-foil star drooping from the top?
Then, he put a few presents around his tree to remind him of home. He even put a gift there for his dead buddy. In the dryness of Iraq, a tree fades fast but instead of someone stealing his presents, after the first night, there were more. Some gifts were to a lover some soldier would never see again. Some were to a friend that already flew home in a flag draped coffin. By the end of the second day there were quite a few presents. By the end of the first week there were so many gifts that it became tricky to walk around the scrawny tree. By Christmas, he says they made trails through a mountain of gifts to get to the door. Most of the presents were still there after Christmas. Stupid presents to no one sat around a silly dried out tree in Iraq. Maybe for just one moment, to one soldier, war wasn't hell.
Maybe right now in Iraq, some other lonely lost soul is rigging another silly shrub with a tin-foil star. Maybe other soldiers will wander out of the darkness with gifts addressed to nowhere. Maybe he will feel like it is the ONLY Christmas Tree in Iraq but I damn sure feel like it's time to make it THE LAST CHRISTMAS TREE IN IRAQ.
Odd as it may seem, even though our war-toy - GI Joe, served his country with honor for the entire period initially agreed upon, the military still classifies him as
active duty. An active duty status prevents him from receiving much needed care at any V.A. Hospital. It seems our government is having a problem deciding if he is disabled at all. Make no mistake, his shoulder and arm injuries are so profound that he cannot fire a rifle but fortunately the arm is still intact, unlike many of his comrades from the Iraq War. Veterans with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) fall into a broad range (between 10% - 100%) when it comes to disability. Anyone with 100% service connected disability receives a decent income but veterans who are less than 100% disabled appear to be in real trouble, if they cannot work.
To make the point, check these inquiries to the Disabled American Veterans (DAV)http://www.realcities.com/mld/krwashington/news/special_packages/veterans/qa_forum.htm?forumId=1577&mode=display&action=&type=list&pageNo=1I'm a disabled veteran receiving 10% for a service connected disability in 87, it was further aggravated in 90, but no one at the V.A. will let me talk to your organization? As a quad paralyzed from the neck down, I now cannot get transportation anywhere, if the V.A. provides transportation to Hines, they refuse to allow me to talk to anyone about an increase in benefits? I tried to call the "PVA" dozens of times over the years, but no one ever calls back? My son and I cannot survive on $108 dollars a month, and I can't even afford my meds! Can you please help my son and I?
I have been fighting for PTSD because of a rape in the service but they keep refusing because of not enough evidence in the records. I have seen many doctors who all say I have PTSD from the rape. My question is: How can I get this settled and get help?
As a 50% Service-Connected Disabled Veteran, I am entitled to DAV disability license plates or State (Indiana) disability license plates? If so, how do I go about gathering the required paperwork to receive them? Also, as a single, unemployed mother of two, I am not insured, I do utilize the VA for medical treatments, but since my rating does not include service-connected sight problems or teeth problems, I cannot receive medical treatment through the VA for these. How/Where can I receive such treatments? I presently am in dire need of eye glasses and have three broken molars.
I was discharged with a general (under honorable conditions). My discharge was for FTR(failure to report). My doctor wanted to give me a medical discharge' but my commander and first sergeant wanted me out of the ARMY because i wasn't making formations(I was over sleeping). I was diagnose wit Narcolepsy in 90 and then long sleep syndrome in 93. Now i've been diagnosed with sleep Apeana by a specialist here in Atlanta. What can i do to right the wrong the ARMY has done to me by kicking me out and not allowing me to be Medically discharge like my doctor requested while i was in the military. I wrote my congressman in MIchigan in 96 and he did nothing! NAACP did nothing! JAG did nothing! And VA denied my claim! I was court martial and escorted off of the concern(Aberdeen Proving Ground)in 11/97.
After 26+ years in the military, I checked in with the V.A. and told me I was not eligible for treatment with the VA as I made more than $19,500 per year. Has this changed ? Also, $19,500 seems low if that's the benchmark they use...telling me I could afford my own medical expenses. Note, I'm a Viet Nam and Desert Storm vet who can not use the VA.
I served in Vietnam in '69 and '70 and since then have suffered symptoms of PTSD, including problems with crowds, noise, anger, alcohol, etc. I saw a VA psychologist but she told me that because I had been married for a long time, had a college degree and a job, wasn't in jail and could not identify one SPECIFIC incident that traumatized me, I didn't have PTSD. I contend that a year of heading for the perimeter with a M16 to defend the base, ducking when someone shot at me and having to be prepared for any man, woman or child to try to kill me, traumatized me. VA must agree that I have SOME problem because they prescribe 200mg of Zoloft daily for my "behavior disorder", which of course causes other side effects. I just want the PTSD definition to change!So, why doesn't GI Joe post in the preceding forum for advice or assistance? Well, it seems there are a couple of problems. First, he is not technically a veteran until discharge. Second there is this surprising headline on the opening page of the forum:
This forum is now closed. Please browse these postings for possible answers to your questions.The DAV was giving solid advise. It is a shame the board was shut down, with so many new veterans arriving each day from Iraq. Oh well, veterans are smart. They can figure it out on their own, if they will crawl out of those boxes where they sleep, in the ally. Damn lazy vets! I guess peace is hell too, huh?
For readers with hearts that are now screaming for justice, there is at least some good news. GI Joe divorced his wife after she confessed to her lengthy liaison with his ex-friend here in the states. It was only a matter of time before someone else broke the news. Though they met in secret at first, after a time they were hitting the bars together. Joe figures if they enjoy each other so much; why should he disrupt such bliss.
After a tearful phone call, where she claimed to fly Old Glory every day in his honor, he dropped by her place to see if there was any chance of reconciliation. It was a rainy night, as he pulled into her driveway. I will say this for the lady; the Stars and Strips indeed flapped wetly in the wind but for some odd reason that upset Joe worse. I guess some people are just overly sensitive about flying the flag at night. Perhaps Old Glory means a bit more to him, after seeing it on top of all those coffins. Peace is hell, right?
One might think that our government will eventually send Joe to some type of medical specialist to establish the severity of his PTSD but after being state-side for months, nothing along those lines is taking place.
Maybe they intend to keep paying him as a sargent forever. It only seems fair to reenumerate the guy, with Bubba Dick and the White House weasel stashing loot from this war all over the globe. Call me cynical but this all bugs me just a bit. Loot-stashing by leaders that never got anywhere near combat is troubling, however, it is not what concerns me the most. I'm used to them plundering the public trust, after seeing indications of it all these years. It is the
active duty status that is alarming. Will they try sending him back as a one-armed soldier or are they simply trying to give him one final screwing?
Still, it doesn't appear to bother Joe. He proudly informed me that he placed a plastic Santa, which appears to be saluting directly in front of his trailer. Of course the wind blew the figure over on the very first night. Joe claims he stood ole' Saluting Santa right back up but winter is a windy time. A next door neighbor eventually joined in the effort. When Santa fell, while Joe was away, he rushed to the rescue. Wedging the figure against the steps worked for a time, according to Joe. Like time and PTSD, however, the wind is relentless. No steps will hold off nature forever. Tying Santa to the steps as he salutes seems a little like tying our troops to Iraq for over four tours of duty, in many cases, so I am glad no one thought to bid the jolly plastic elf. Whether we credit a plastic Santa or the wind, it almost seems like poetic justice. If standing against a relentless force while saluting only gets you knocked over repeatedly, maybe it is time to stop saluting.
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