I’m no Patrick Henry, but I considered joining the U.S. Army late last fall. I’ve now got less than 24 hours to join, or surrender, once and for all, the chance to serve my country. This is my last day of being 41 years old, the current cutoff age to enlist as a soldier.
I’m also no flag-waving, America First! zealot, but the idea of serving my country while we’re at war with Iraq (to some degree) and Afghanistan (to a large degree) was more than a romantic notion. It feels like an obligation, a duty.
But I’ll make this clear right now: I’m not enlisting, and I have tremendous respect and admiration for the men and women who have fought and served in Iraq and Afghanistan over the past six and seven-plus years, respectively.
By some estimates, more than 4,200 U.S. military members have died in Iraq since the invasion. Another 667 have fallen in Afghanistan during Operation Enduring Freedom. It’s the price we’ve paid since 9/11, whether you favor the wars or not.
But here’s the catch: I’m not what you’d call Army material. I joined the Air Force when I was 19, and never made it out of basic training (entry-level separation due to a medical condition). I never re-enlisted. And I’ve always held conscientious objectors (read: World War II’s Robert Lowell and Vietnam’s hippie hordes).
My announcement to my mother and mother-in-law, that I was truly considering going all Stripes with my life, elicited polite, muffled, but audible, guffaws. My kids took is seriously, because they could see I was serious. And I was. For a few weeks. Then reality kicked in.
I smoke two packs a day. I’m out of shape. I’d much rather read Lao Tzu than Sun Tzu. I don’t own a gun, have never (really) gone hunting, and I’m a raging liberal Democrat. But after 12 years as a journalist, and the newspaper industry in tatters, I was looking for a suitable, lasting, satisfying career turn.
And, like I said above, our country is at war and folks have been dying to support our nation’s ideals. I’ve had pangs of guilt, to be sure. But there are people better suited to carry out our mission of keeping freedom ringing (agree or disagree) than me. Lots of ‘em.
In summation, I guess I chickened out. Or wised up. (Agree or disagree.) I’ve kept my sermons consistent to my two sons, that we’ve had an awe-inspiring form of government in America (however imperfect) ever since patriots like Patrick Henry vowed to conquer the bullies of the world. I’ve also told my sons I’m not in favor of them joining the military during wartime, at least not until after they’ve received their lieutenant’s bars.
I’m down to under 23 hours now. Time’s going to run out on me, and I will always have a pang or two of regret, I’m sure. But at least I gave it some deep thought, right? I dunno. If nothing else, I gave a few folks a few good laughs. After midnight it’s all an afterthought, anyway.
Monday, April 6, 2009
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