Global Beat links to Battle Lessons by Dan Baum. The piece describes how some officers in Iraq, ignorant of the land and its people, faced with an enemy they don’t understand and can’t identify, are bypassing spartan, outmoded convention and enlisting the internet to refine battle strategies in real time.
I’m not referencing the article as a colourfull supplemental to the gathering chatter that if nothing else, this occupation is on-the-job training for post-modern, imperial soldiers, and pity them having to endure the strife without bars and brothels to relieve the stress. I feel as much empathy for adults who choose to kill for the thrill of it only able to pillage but not rape, as I feel gratefull to a media that considers grunts like Dick Morris better suited for loitering on editorial pages than on the street spare changing for a pint.
According to Baum:
The officers fighting in Iraq are, most of the time, remarkably enthusiastic. This is their war, the only one they may get in their careers. It follows an attack on the United States, even if the connection between the attack and the war has been questioned. Within the tiny sliver of the war each sees, examples of brilliance and bravery abound. They’re proud to be a part of “the most beautiful Army in the history of the world,” as one recently returned captain put it; he praised his immediate commander for wisdom and compassion, and his company for being so disciplined and professional that it could turn off the violence “like a good hunting dog.” They brag about the Q36, a computerized weapon system that is so sophisticated it can spot an enemy mortar or rocket in midair, trace its trajectory backward, and fire a response before the enemy round lands. But they will also tell you that the war is excruciating. Despite their Buck Rogers technology, they are losing friends to weapons made from RadioShack gizmos, and the people they’ve been sent to help seem to hate them more every day. They can’t imagine when or how they will earn a victory parade.
So long as we train children to find beauty in killing machines, there will be no victories, only mine-fields littered with the ill-gotten spoils of craven egos.