War and Rumors of War

I ’m back in Baghdad once again for a training conference with the Iraqi generals. This evening, after work, I had my supper in the large ball room of the Republican Palace and then made my way back to my tiny trailer. The air is already turning warm but as I left the palace, it was getting dark and cool and there was a beautiful full moon lighting the grounds of this magnificent palace. It was so serene that I almost forgot there is a war on. It was nice to have a bit of quiet time and I decided to listen to my little MP3 player.

Around nine p.m., I stepped out onto the porch to listen to the US artillery firing in the distance. I leaned against my door and counted the seconds between shot and splash, like a kid counting seconds between the flash of lightning and the thunder. Precisely eleven seconds following each boom was a distant, window rattling, earth trembling, albeit faint explosion. Somewhere in the distance, probably Sadr City, somebody was being killed.

The insurgents have been rocketing and mortaring US troops and innocent neighborhoods for months on end, but we have chosen not to use heavy artillery (for the most part). Now, with the new Baghdad offensive well underway, it is obvious we have changed our policy. It is strange to hear the pounding of our own guns for a change. The rounds land up to 20 miles away but the concussion is enough to shake the bed, door and windows of my little closet home.

The moon was so bright and the night so peaceful. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for our enemies in the distance, having their bodies ripped apart, their brains liquefied by these massive explosions. Just then, the man sharing the room next to me, a diplomat visiting the embassy (which is in the palace) came by. “I’m told it’s outgoing” he said as he passed me. Under my breath I said, “The sound of people dying, nonetheless”. I think it embarrassed him, but I did not mean to.

And now, as I write this, it is once again quiet outside. It’s more quiet than I’ve ever heard, and I feel sick at my heart. Hopefully our artillery has not caused the loss of a single innocent, but that’s an unreasonable expectation. At the very least, we have killed some enemy. Some mother has lost a son, some child has lost a brother, and so on. Perhaps only bad guys died tonight, but, anyway you look at it, God is not pleased.

How can God be pleased with any killing? And here I am, teaching the art and science of war to young officers - knowing that within days of leaving my course, they will use exactly what I taught them to kill other people. I justify what I do by telling them (and myself) that we must make war better than our enemies do so that we can protect the innocent and ensure peace. It’s times like this that I’m not sure if that’s a paradox or a lie. God forgive us all.

Can I find the words to say I’m sorry……
Well I don’t know what I could say or would it matter anyway
Cause I don’t know how You could still forgive me
For all that I have put You through is there anything that I can do
I would give my life to find Your mercy
What will it take until You forgive me
I don’t know

Third Day