Our Demand © 2010 Michael Maurer Smith

Our unbridled thirst for oil made this disaster all but inevitable. When will we realize that we are petroleum addicts?

Occasionally I meet people who, upon learning I was a Marine, tell me, “thank you for your service.” This is meant well, although their thank you is always tinged with guilt. People learned after the Vietnam War not to visit their dislike of America’s misguided politics and wasted wars upon the veterans who had to fight them.

I am conflicted about being thanked for my military service. Should I be gracious and accept it? Or should I tell the person to study the history of America’s war and politics and ask themselves some hard questions? Should I point out that the Vietnam War is now recognized to have been folly—that the 51,895 names etched on the wall in Washington D.C. testifies to their sacrifice in service of too many lying and dithering politicians who played war games from the comfort of their desks? Should I point out that our current “all volunteer” military is for many a last resort employment program led by career professionals—that in effect it is a mercenary force used to extend America’s influence by means of threat and violence. Should I point out that for all the deaths and maiming suffered by the United States, its allies, and the Iraqi and Afghan peoples that Osama Bin Laden has not been brought to justice, and that weapons of mass destruction have not been found in Iraq—although they certainly exist in arsenals throughout the United States?

Recently, while in New Mexico, a place I love for its stark contrasts, I photographed the roadside marker at the entry to Trinity Site.

Trinity Site Marker, near San Antonio, NM

It was at Trinity site, not far from San Antonio, NM in Socorro County, on 16 July 1945 that the equivalent of 20 kilotons of TNT was released with the detonation of the first atomic bomb. It was here that the biblical promise of Armageddon was made possible by science, engineering and American ingenuity. It was here in the desert, south of the Valley of Fires, that 45 mile stretch of malpais, and west of the Three Rivers Petroglyphs site with it 21,000 drawings carved in the rocks by nameless and faceless people more than 1,100 years ago that the objectivity of science was irretrievably surrendered to the service of politics.

Valley of Fires, Malpais, near Carrizozo, NM

Petroglyphs, Three Rivers, NM

We know the rest of the story. The bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and all that was living below perished or suffered. The bombs could not distinguish between combatant and non-combatant, the innocent or evil. They cooked the young and old, babies, dogs, cats and birds without discrimination.

Of course, the destruction and horrors of Little Boy and Fat Man were no greater than those caused by the fire bombings of Tokyo on the 9^th of March 1945, when more than 100,000 people died that night and more than a million were wounded!

On 5 August 1945 the bomb bay doors of the Enola Gay opened and America gained the distinction of being the first nation to drop an atomic bomb (Little Boy) on a living population. Later, on 9 August 1945, Fat Man fell on Nagasaki.

It is argued that hundreds of thousands of allied troops would have died invading Japan had the bombs not been dropped. This is likely so. Yet the fact remains that the single most horrific and powerful weapon ever made was used, in spite of the pleas by many of the scientists who developed it. They said it should not be used until it had been first demonstrated to the Japanese thus giving them the option of immediate surrender. President Truman, ignored those pleas and ordered the bombings. Science was now an arm of politics. Realizing what he had done  J. Robert Oppenheimer, quoted from the Bhagavad Gita, saying, “Now, I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.”

Thus far we have avoided another war on the scale of World War Two and have settled for exercising our military skill in a succession of mini-wars—tactical adventures that increasingly resemble video games except for the real carnage they exact. This way we continue to produce a steady stream of new veterans—veterans of our political policy wars—of our wars to extend corporate influence in the guise of spreading Democracy (mostly to those who haven’t asked for it).

As a nation we seem to have lost our stomach for wholesale slaughter and subscribe to the unfounded belief that war can be waged clinically using missiles, drones, and robots, remotely controlled by operators sitting in front of computer monitors in air-conditioned command centers. We believe, or want to believe, that we can kill only the bad guys while avoiding “collateral” damage. It doesn’t seem to be working. We seem resigned to winning the immediate engagement but not the war. In fact we can’t seem to define the war—to decide whether we are at war, conducting a police action, doing peace keeping or nation building.

There was clarity about World War Two. Neither the Axis or Allied powers deluded themselves believing limited war was possible. It was a fight to the finish. It was freedom versus the forces of oppression. Hitler and the Imperial Japanese had to be stopped. And it was over in four years.

The bombings of Tokyo, Hiroshima, Nagaski, London and Dresden were not surgical raids on military targets only. Instead both sides aimed at inflicting so much pain and suffering on the respective enemy populations that they would be compelled to capitulate or wiped out. War then was understood as total. Whether you were a civilian or served in uniform you were involved and vulnerable. It was inescapable.

Today, in the United States, there is no compulsory national service, military or otherwise. Consequently the conflicts we are involved in, such as those in Afghanistan and Iraq are executed by volunteer troops, commanded by university educated and professional officers. Thus our civilian population is free to support, dismiss or totally ignore the American soldier and the military in general. Instead of military service being an obligation, or perceived as a duty it is now considered just another job or career choice. New recruits are given signing bonuses and in some cases permitted to take holiday leaves during boot camp! All of the military services now use branding and marketing agencies to sell themselves, promising to turn the young recruit into an invincible high tech warrior—off to see foreign lands, seek thrills and find adventure.

So, as a veteran how do I feel about being thanked for my service? I feel unsettled, embarrassed and somewhat grateful. I appreciate that my service is acknowledged. Yet I know I did not enlist out of patriotism. I enlisted because the G.I Bill promised me an opportunity for an education, if I survived—a way out of a dead end situation. And I got that education and opportunity at a price.

During and after my service I came to know that my nation lied to me about Vietnam. I began to realize that the pay and benefits I’d received as a Marine had come at a cost in blood for many innocent people, both American and Vietnamese. So how can I be proud of this? Why should I be?

The veterans of World War Two can be proud of their service, knowing it was truly necessary and noble. And those of us who served during Korea and Vietnam can take a measure of solace in knowing that we had few choices—we would likely have been drafted if we hadn’t enlisted. Drafted or enlisted most of us went in with our eyes open and aware of the calculations.

So I will graciously accept the thank you for my service. However, anyone who would truly honor me as a veteran must pledge to rise above the words of politicians, professors and religious leaders and search for the real truth—the truth one must recognize in their heart—the truth that tells them that “blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the children of God.” (Matthew 5:9)

War should never be the political solution. It should only be entered into in defense of the innocent and helpless, and then only as an absolute and unavoidable last resort.

The best way to thank veterans is by not creating the conditions that produce them.

© Michael Maurer Smith 2009

As I sit reading and drinking coffee, I overhear some of their conversation. Puffery, earnest pleading, non-committal blather, misdirection, misperception, lies and the occasional truth—I hear it all. This is the sausage being made. What goes on across the street, under Elijah E. Myer’s dome is merely the packaging and sales.

As a bald guy in a polo shirt, chinos and without an id tag the suits ignore me. Like much of the “public” they claim to serve I am practically invisible—not worth a look or nod.

The aroma of the brewing coffee is robust but not enough to overcome the odor of Rome burning while these fiddlers fiddle. Sometimes I want to interrupt their reveries and tell my story. But I don’t. It would be pointless. These folks thrive on stories—playing one against the other—taking pieces from many and weaving them into their own self-serving monologues—smoke and mirrors—fine talk—more evasion, escape and abdication of any real responsibility.

Perhaps it is the inescapable and imposed mediocrity of the committee process that assures that nearly anything decided and implemented by government will be inelegant, inefficient, ineffective and counterproductive. Or perhaps it is the nature of politics that the only thing of importance to a politician is getting elected and staying in office—whatever it takes.

I say to hell with all these overpaid sophists in their patent leather, pinstripes and navy blue—on whose watch the economy has gone into free fall, millions have lost their jobs, millions more have no health care and thousands of young men and women have been sent to their deaths fighting in wars without end and specious justification.

Where is their compassion? Where is their competence? Where is their sense of responsibility to all those they cajoled, coerced and duped into voting for their empty promises? Where is their conscience?

In fairness I do thank the few politicians and lawmakers who from their genuine desire to help others and make the world a better place willingly endure the idiocy, blindness, greed, brutality, ignorance, vanity, and selfishness of the rest. Yet I question their effectiveness—their lone voices howling in the mass-media wilderness—I think of the likes of Representative Dennis Kucinich, made to look radical for being compassionate and sensible.

Sadly, so many of our elected, appointed, and purchased representatives labor under the mistaken belief they have a mandate, when in fact most are in office by default—because most Americans have given up on the political process, convinced it really doesn’t matter who is elected because this is really the United States of Corporate Interests and Banking.

We who are concerned with serious questions of life, meaning, compassion and caring have learned to expect little from politics and politicians. And maybe this is a blessing. Self-sufficiency and real community may be our only salvation. Perhaps, with the the internet and the trends toward community supported agriculture, organic foods, bartering and the like, we will soon devolve into so many tribal affiliations that state and national government will be unable to tax us into bankruptcy and send our children to wars to protect corporate interests.

© Michael Maurer Smith 2009

Shaw's (now gone) on old M-78, near East Lansing, MI © Michael Maurer Smith 1991

As the sun rose I found much to photograph, anything that stood up so the light would strike it—an almost audible clamor—at sunrise—houses, barns, fences and telephone poles, clusters of trees and dwellings, and like a sail at sea the occasional gleam of a grain elevator. I saw it but did not fully sense that these constructions were pathetically temporary on the vast exposed landscape. In this I found their appeal, their life enhancing poignancy.

Wright Morris (God Country and My People)

© Michael Maurer Smith 2009