The Warm Place
Yesterday we placed a stunned surf scoter next to the hollow end of a log on the beach.
Today, near the same place, we disturbed an ancient gull sleeping on the sun-warmed pebbles of the beach. He was weak, hunched, ragged of feather and sunken of eye, obviously at the end of his days. He limped further up the beach, and settled in almost in the same spot where the scoter had rested.
A young eagle flying over startled the old gull into skittering into the scoter hollow. Protected, warm in the sun, he drifted off to sleep. He was still soundly asleep (but for the occasional head twitch) when we walked quietly by an hour later.
If the only thing we can hope for in common — the only thing that can happen to us all — is a good death, that bird could do worse.
Picking up a Duck
Well, I’m probably the only person you know who’s picked up and carried a live surf scoter.
Yesterday it was brilliantly sunny. We gave up trying to think or work inside and headed out for a long walk on the Clallam Bay beach.
Dan spotted a black thing rolling around in surf. It was a fat, healthy-looking sleek black male surf-scoter, in full breeding plumage, but very limp.
Alive or dead, we pick up floating animals and get them away from the surf. If they’re dying, at least they won’t have drowning to deal with. Then we go away, because nobody wants a predator hanging over them as they die. If they’re dead, it’s just a dignity thing. If we do it for animals, maybe somebody will do it for us. What goes around comes around; the only heaven we’ve got (and the only hell — make nice to get nice).
I reached down and closed my fingers around the bird — and it startled awake. Now I had a live surf-scoter in my hands, but still very limp, head dangling.
Heavy, sleek, soft, warm — reminded me more of a mammal than a bird. I turned him over and carried him up the beach, and settled him under the end of a log, in the sun. The wind was cold, but any sun would quickly heat up those black feathers.
As we walked away, we looked back with binoculars and saw the bird woozily raising his head. When we’d walked a little farther, we saw that he’d settled his feet more comfortably under him, and was more in control of his neck.
We were gone for about an hour, but when we came back, he was gone. No blood, no feathers, no sign of a struggle. No bird floating in the water.
Scoters feed on shellfish by diving hard and swimming in the roughest water. We think he’d stunned himself on one of the old piling butts in the surf. When I put my long gripping claw-like split paws around him, we think I set off a response to a predator, and it was like a shot of adrenalin to his heart, waking him up. At least that’s what it looked like.
And it was neat, picking up a wild wet bird.
Ungrateful bitches.
A local resident said that the situation in the middle east is being fought, ultimately, for the freedom of women.
The ungrateful bitches just don’t seem to appreciate it!
“At War”
We’re not “at war.”
If we’re “at war,” in a legally-recognized, international sense, then it is legal and proper for the other side to attack us on our home soil.
So far, all we’re doing is sending troops overseas, to fulfill a constantly re-defined invasion and occupation. Nobody we’ve invaded has attacked us.
“War” means it goes both ways.
Terminology
Remind anyone who claims we are “at war” in Iraq:
If this is a “war,” then the opponents who attack our troops or civilians are engaged in warfare. Any civilians who die — whether by wholesale bombing of cities or smaller attacks — by our own definitions, are “collateral damage.”
I never thought I’d hear a phrase that was worse, in its arrogant disrespect for other humans beings, than “collateral damage.” But Condi Rice managed it.
She recently referred to troop losses as “acceptable by-product.”
Mistakes Were Made.
“Mistakes were made.” First used by Kruschev when speaking of the Stalinist regime.
“Acceptable by-product.” The term first used March 19, 2007 by Candy Rice when speaking of military casualties. She could not, of course, use the term commonly used for civilian casualties: collateral dammage.
Rice also said that both civilian and military deaths were part of the regrettable but necessary price of war. Or, as Stalin would have put it: “You can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.”
Collateral Damage
Well, here we go again. Those of us in the military during Vietnam remember the lousy care returning soldiers got. I worked in a military hospital back then, and witnessed the misery as the soldiers tried desperately to get past the paperwork to get care.
I just heard a parent of a soldier on the radio say he did not care about building schools for Iraqi children. He only cared about getting care for the “wounded warriors.”
Here’s the problem: most soldiers have thought the term “collateral damage” only applies to civilians. They’ve seen it as a reasonable cost of war.
What they’ve never realized is that “collateral damage,” in the minds of the arms industry and their servant governments, includes the soldiers and their families.
Here’s how the military views your kids: you birthed ‘em, fed ‘em, raised ‘em, educated them. When they were ripe, the military plucked them — sucked them dry — threw them out. They’re a cheap resource. They’re like trees, or buffalo, or any strip mine. They’re there to be used, and dumped.
It’s the same mind that considers dead Iraqis just a cost of doing business. During Vietnam, there was a question about whether Vietnamese felt the same grief for their dead that we did — until we saw, on TV, the films of Vietnamese villagers wailing in agony at the funerals of their loved ones. The fact that they could feel emotions, like human beings — like us — came as a great shock to this nation. I think the black people of our country will recognize this reaction; Mark Twain pointed it up in Huckleberry Finn when Huckleberry is surprised that Jim can mourn for his children.
Until our soldiers absolutely refuse to accept the concept of collateral damage, they’ll be part of that damage. Poisonous concepts spread — like poison.
Whoever refuses to become human and recognize the humanity of all humans affected by war – risks being treated like a bunch of thrown-out empty tin cans. The government may inspect the military hospitals for now, but the moment our attention comes off them, they’ll be back to their old tricks.
You can’t trust the arms industry, and the high-ranking soldiers who have made their careers catering to it. Especially if you’re a soldier. How much do you think a General really cares for you?
If I were you, I’d be doing some CYA.
Not their place to think.
I had formerly supported Lt. Watada and his refusal to serve in an illegal war.
But I’ve had to rethink that.
The first duty of soldiers is to obey orders. As they are told in basic training by every sergeant, “It’s not your place to think!”
Regardless of illegal wars, the rights of fellow humans or even basic citizenship, soldiers only have one duty or right — to shut up, suck it up and do as they’re told.
After the war, if their side loses, they should quietly continue to follow that duty. If their leaders have led them into war-crimes, they should simply square their shoulders and go with their heads up — to be hanged.
Every soldier should be aware of this contingency, and accept it as part of a possible part of his or her duty. No trying to claim “I was just following orders.” Every soldier should simply say, as a plain truth, “I followed my orders.”
If that means a soldier can be hanged after a war for criminal acts, then so be it. Any honest, decent soldier should simply accept it and face it directly as part of the territory.
