Military

Lex writes today of the battle for Iwo Jima, on the day after the 60th anniversary of that battle:

These World War II veterans are among us still. We can still hear their voices. And they can still teach us.

I have been to Iwo Jima – when I was stationed in Japan, we used to fly down there to practice our carrier landing patterns prior to going aboard ship for carrier qualification. It is a small, small place to have held such death. One wonders that it did not sink under the weight of the blood of 28,000 who died there on both sides. I have walked up LST beach with Suribachi to my left, glowering down from its fog-shrouded heights. Looked right and seen more rising terrain, an elevated sea wall to the right. I have made the long climb through soft volcanic sand and finally waist high grass, to get to an uncertain summit, and everywhere, seen the mouths of cave and tunnel systems in which the fanatic hordes poured out in counter-attack after counter-attack.

In nothing but tennis shoes and a bathing suit, I have found myself panting and out of breath, and thought about the men who waded ashore that day, 60 years ago today, with 80 pound packs and the noise and their brothers falling all around them like blades of grass beneath a mower. And I have wondered how they did it, and if we, whom they made, are made of the same stuff.

After Fallujah in November, I believe that at least some of us are. As for the rest, perhaps in 60 years’ time we will learn about how our great campaign to once again liberate millions from tyranny and throw down fascism of a different stripe was truly national in character. I am sure that if this great task we are embarked upon is successful, that will be the narrative.

Success, it is truly said, has many fathers.

Back a little less than four years ago, while watching the interviews of the real men of Easy Company, during the beginning of each episode of HBO’s Band of Brothers, I wondered if our generation.. my generation, had the same stuff as the men that conquered Normandy, and the Bulge, and Tarawa, and Iwo Jima… and then 9/11 came.. and I knew that we did.. as did those of my parent’s generation who had fought in the jungles of Vietnam.. and those that fought before them in the Marne.. success, indeed, has many fathers…

For all of the criticisms of the United States for being “stingy” – for wanting to build an empire – for spending too much on our military – for only donating $350m to relief efforts – for spending more in a day of the war on terror than we donated to the relief effort – how can you not look at these pictures of the sailors of the United States Navy rendering aid in East Asia and see through all of that rhetorical smokescreen?

We’re only able to provide aid like this because we have invested in the military that we have today. Had we drawn down as far as some other countries have – we wouldn’t be able to provide this sort of aid.

Only $350m? What’s the pricetag for the carrier group and the amphibious group that are over there now?

Take a look at the faces of the these men and women. They are there to help – there’s no intent or desire for “empire” in their eyes – no matter what the Socialist Alliance or Claire Short has to say about it.

Over at Trying to Grok, Sarah, in the following post, linked to the Dissident Frogman:

In September, my mother came to visit. We went to France, Italy, and Flossenburg. In France, my relatives asked what I wanted to do there. I said I wanted to see the American soldiers at St. Avold. They said, “Oh, do Americans work there?” To which I solemnly replied, “No, I’d like to see the soldiers who died for us.” I wanted to see Joe and Tommy.

I had never read the Dissident Frogman before this morning — in the post linked by Sarah above he has a few words about “Joe and Tommy”:

There’s nothing really spectacular on “Utah”, “Omaha”, “Gold”, “Juno” and “Sword”. Just a few, discreet monuments in the dunes.

With names. Lots of names.

However, once you’ve been told – by those who survived – what happened here, it changes everything. On Charlie, Dog, Easy and Fox sectors at “Bloody Omaha” for instance, took place one of the most outstanding exploit of the liberation of Europe, carried out by 34,000 young – so young – heroes. They won, but many were wounded and many died.

To the eye, Bloody Omaha is just a sandy beach.

No white crosses, no huge memorial, no visible signs of those who sacrificed themselves and fought for freedom. No sign of those who fell for it.

Yet I remember “Joe” and “Tommy”, heroes with no names but so many faces, who came here one day, fighters for a just cause, in a liberation army.

I was told about them, I read books about them, I saw pictures of them, and I watched interviews and movies. I heard their stories. The Joe and Tommy who got through this, told me about their brothers who didn’t.

And they show me why they didn’t fall in vain.

[…]

The kid I was that day on Omaha beach wanted to thank Joe and Tommy, but couldn’t.

More than 30 years later, having reach adulthood with their memory still fresh in my mind and not besmirched by their progeny, I understand I can.

And I hope I did.

I am Joe, I am Tommy.

Of all of the places in Europe I would like to see on my first vacation there – the only one I could not stand to miss is Normandy.