Fratricide

"“The Supreme Folly Is To Think That War Can Be Stopped By War.”

-Karl Barth

A lot to say on this chilly, 22 degree morning in Manhattan.

As one might expect, events in Iran have dragged me back into a lot of not great places over the weekend. First there was the rage and frustration over sending airmen into harm's way in an illegal, discretionary war. Then the disgust at my R friends who think this is all a good thing, that the ends justify the means although no one seems to know what the "ends" might be. Killing the country's top leadership marks a beginning of the conflict, not its finish. We saw in my war what happens when there's no real endgame, and Iran is a far tougher military and political problem than Iraq.

This morning brought the jarring images of one of the three Eagles shot down over Kuwait this morning, apparently by trigger-happy Kuwaiti air defense batteries.

The only times I was ever really in harm's way in Iraq came when we found ourselves inside the rings of SAMs and antiaircraft artillery, and particularly the latter. The Iraqi Air Force mostly failed to stand and fight, probably a prudent decision on their part. But for the first two or three weeks of the war, the air defenses on the ground were active enough, and we lost an Eagle on the first night of the war that way.

And losing three jets by fratricide--what a colossal waste. But it happens--although I feel myself rising to point out that Arab militaries with sophisticated weapons are a dangerous, wildly unpredictable thing because they're so poorly trained and trainable, it's worth remembering that we lost a Hornet over the Red Sea a few months back when an American destroyer shot it down as the crew was trying to land on an aircraft carrier. There's a lot of buffoonery in war, driven by fear and uncertainty and the knowledge that guessing wrong and not pulling the trigger could cost the lives of folks counting on you to get the decision right.

Then there's the "mistake" that apparently led to an American guided missile destroying a girl's school just as kids and their parents were arriving for a new school day. Our troops signed up for the chance to perhaps fight and die for whatever cause animated the emperor at that moment--these little girls, teachers, parents, and staff were just living their lives, until rather dramatically they weren't. Blood on DJT's hands, but also blood on our own because our country did this.

And as for our young folks who signed up for this, I've come 180 degrees from my days as a young parent. I'd kneecap a son who suggested he might want to join up, as worried about their immortal souls as preserving their lives. Let Barron go fly into harm's way.

I'd awakened thinking I might write more from a personal reflective perspective, thinking about life decisions and the disorientation of this moment, and a sense that maybe I'm seen in these classrooms more as an old fool and failed trial lawyer (why else would I stop going to court?) than someone on a last great adventure. And maybe they're right.

But that's another discussion for another day.