A thought on the sometimes necessary, most times unecessary killing of other human beings

IMAGINE THIS: You wake up on a spring morning, the sun meekly peering into your room through its blinds.

It's early; dew still clings to the grass outside. There's a bit of mist at the top of your street.

Unable to negotiate with the sun, and knowing you've got a full day ahead of you, you get out of bed. Yawning, you lurch your way downstairs. You begin making coffee.

The sound of the coffee grind is your alarm clock. You scratch your head. The sun is warm, and you're looking forward to the new day.

Waiting for the pot to brew, you wander outside and open up your cold, metal mailbox. The mail hasn't been there long — it's still warm. Shuffling through what's arrived, you notice a big brown envelope marked "orders."

Your life, as you knew it, ends here.

You see, someone in a far away country is at war with some other far away country. And you just got a letter ordering you to suit up, check in, get fit, and ship out across the Atlantic — where you will sit in a trench, inside a tank, or behind a gun, watching your neighbours and countrymen die while you shoot and try to do the same to someone else's.

The whole idea is to stop that faraway was from reaching your still-moist lawn and your still-brewing coffee pot. If you don't go, that might just very well happen. Your country needs you, and you know it. And you're likely to give your life for it.

You put the envelope down. Your coffee's done. You scratch your head.

The sun is warm, and your life just took a U-turn.

Try to imagine what this must feel like.

Can you?

I can't.

And that's why veterans deserve far more respect than we give them —
— lest we forget, as they say.


再见。