He was very pleased when I moved to Minnesota and learned about the Hmong population living here, telling me, again, how great both they and the Montagnards were. Then we both get quiet, as we remember how terribly these allies were treated by the United States after he left the military – when they really need our promised help. I’ve never seen anything written by any vet that was not sad and angry about the US’s betrayal of these allies.

He went on to have the good life my grandmother wanted for him. He and my mom are still married, they had good, professional jobs, they have a house, and they travel. I do mention fairly often how very fortunate he is to have my brother and I as kids. He says he’s doubtful about that part, but I’m pretty sure he’s joking. (Sure I was a handful, but…that’s all part of the fun, right?) Overall, he’s very lucky. He had all his limbs. He had my mom when he came back. He had a good education. He was employed in good jobs after he left the military. He had pretty good kids. (I’m a blessing, I tell you!)

And yet.

Of course, we’ll never know how life could have been different if that combat tour had not happened, because this isn’t fiction. I’m pretty sure things like his rule that we walk and talk softly outside at night, and not turn on any lights – to avoid being a target – would not have happened. I’m pretty sure the lesson of “wake Dad up by calling from across the room” because otherwise, if you were too close, he would startle up and grab for your throat, would not have been learned. I’m pretty sure patrolling around the house at night would not have happened. I’m pretty sure his flashbacks and nightmares could have been avoided. I’m pretty sure the assorted ailments he has had, after being doused in Agent Orange and whatever other chemicals were around, would not have happened. Would we have had guns all over the house? Would he have pointed one at me, the night he thought I was a burglar trying to get back into the house? (I said I was a handful! Sorry, Dad.) Would we have been taught how to use knives, and sent to school with them? (It was a different time. For sure, don’t do this now.)

Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll never know.

All these things, and so many more – large and small – have forever altered all of our lives. One of us went to war; four of us were changed by that. Fifty years later, I still turn off all the interior lights in my car, so no light appears when I open a door because I don’t want to be a target for snipers. It’s a small, pretty inconsequential thing. It’s not the only thing. But all those small things add up.

Now, multiply all those effects – big and small – that by the 2,709,918 American who served in Vietnam.

Now multiply that by, let’s say, that same number of three other people who are closest to those soldiers.

We’re up to 8,129,754 people whose lives were changed forever by this war.

That’s such an understated number that it’s ridiculous.

Think about friends, other family members, people in the community. An entire industry of people building bombs, guns, bullets, tanks, fighter planes – all those jobs were changed by the existence of that war. Think about an entire industry of combat medicine, emergency medicine, prosthetic creation, long-term medical care, long-term psychological care – all these jobs changed forever. Think about the homeless veterans in every community. You probably see them in the library.

Add up all those numbers. (You’ll have to do the estimates. But “millions” is probably about right.)

And of course – you can’t just think about one group of people when you look at the costs of war.

My dad was a professor, and when he retired he gave me his copy of Mark Twain’s The War Prayer that he kept in his office. I’ve kept it on the shelves of my office since then. (Stop by if you want to look at the illustrations.)

• When I hear our current politicians braying for continuing war in Iraq and Afghanistan,
• When I hear chickenhawk politicians, working on their re-election campaigns, squalling for war with Iran,
• When I read about Academi – formerly know as Xe Services, formerly known as Blackwater – being paid to go to African countries in the service of the United States,

This poem is all I think of. You should read it too.

When I hear these chickenhawk politicians, with no apparent reason other than “I need to hear people cheering for me!” or “I need to get reelected!” or “I need people to think I’m tough!” talk about going to war – my brain tunes them out, and I hear these words instead.

(And I definitely mean the term “chickenhawk” to be as offensive as possible here. Politicians who don’t want to do the hard, terrible work of fighting wars, but do want to send other people’s children to destroy lives, to be irreparably injured, and to die – I am enraged by them.)

Here are a couple of quick excerpts:

“It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory with stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. “

…”The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside — which the startled minister did — and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:

“I come from the Throne — bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import — that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of — except he pause and think. “God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two — one uttered, and the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this — keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon your neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain on your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse on some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.”…

” “Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth into battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended in the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames in summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it — “

It’s a quick read – it will only take you a couple of minutes to get through the entire thing. But you get the gist here.

So, we have to keep adding numbers of people to our estimates of those affected.

From Britannica.com“Not until 1995 did Vietnam release its official estimate of war dead: as many as 2 million civilians on both sides and some 1.1 million North Vietnamese and Viet Cong fighters. The U.S. military has estimated that between 200,000 and 250,000 South Vietnamese soldiers died in the war. … Among other countries that fought for South Vietnam on a smaller scale, South Korea suffered more than 4,000 dead, Thailand about 350, Australia more than 500, and New Zealand some three dozen.”

So that adds up to 3,354,886 more people. (I find these estimates to be ludicrously low, but none of the numbers I’m discussing are in any way the “correct”ones – just giving us context for thought.)

We’ll stay with my “three other people most affected” by the issues their soldier brings home (or fails to come home). We’re up to 10,064,658 people in Vietnam and other countries..

And of course, that is not even close to correct.

The United States was in Vietnam from approximately November 1, 1955 and until April 30, 1975. So, twenty years of American soldiers running around a country, waging war, dropping bombs, shooting guns, placing land mines, and other war activities. (Note: I’m not justifying a pro or con stance on the war here; just looking for perspective.) France colonized Vietnam for nearly a century before that, and actively waged war from about 1938 until about 1954.

I can’t even imagine living a country at war for 37 years. We’ve all seen pictures, we all know stories. If you haven’t seen photos of jungles being destroyed in dramatic, fiery fashion by napalm, they are easy to find. The slower paced destruction, but complete with terrible side effects for decades, of Agent Orange and other toxic chemicals being sprayed are clear. The psychological damage caused by being born into war, and trying to grow up to live through it, must be immense. The destruction spirals outward, and can’t easily be quantified or stopped. I’m not even trying here.

The UN estimates 49,896,000 people lived in Vietnam in 1975. So let’s just add in that approximately 50 million people affected by the war.

Very, very loosely, adding up my very ballpark numbers, I’m up to
68,090,412 people directly affected by this war – at the time and to the current day. The imprecise fuzziness of my math is obvious, and so is the concept I’m considering.

And of course – I’ve just been talking about one war. And that one has been over for decades.

But we’ve been endlessly at war. Even my fuzzy numbers fail me at trying to keep all of this in some kind of perspective.

I don’t see any politicians brave enough to stand up and say “We should really think about this. We should be clear with the goals we need to achieve, because we know the cost is going to be terrible. The damage we have already done to people will last for generations. Let’s carefully consider before we do any more.”

So I’m not advocating for anything in specific here. And as an organization, we do not take any political stands. (Other than: Fund and support libraries!! We definitely take that stand!)

But the next time you hear a politician squalling about a “need” to got to war, remember that it’s a much, much bigger picture. Good, thoughtful action from politicians only happens when WE demand good, thoughtful action of them.

I grew up in politics, and I know that politicians are not some inherently evil bunch of people. A lot of them start out wanting to do good things for their community, and to make a positive contribution. Then then need to get re-elected, and they need money, and they need supporters. At all levels, it’s a hard job.

The psychologically damaged among the group needs to be cheered, feted, and celebrated – instead of doing the hard work of serving our needs to the best of their ability. They blow with the winds of opinion and approval. Important decisions are terrifyingly subject to whim.

In either case, we can all help them to govern us well. We can expect that they will not do everything we demand, to make us individually happy – but we can also expect that they make decisions that will have the best possible net positive outcomes.

Election season is here.

Pay attention to your politicians and candidates. If you hear them start talking about the “need” to go to war – in Iran, in Africa, in Venezuela, or anywhere else – listen to that. See if you can figured out exactly WHY they are advocating for this action, WHO will be affected, and WHAT specifically they want to accomplish.

Don’t be fooled by the “well…it’s complicated” line. We all know the terrible things that will happen as a result of war; if that will be worth it, then insist the politicians who advocate for it and who cause it, at least be able to explain it.

Basic nuclear physics can be explained in a couple of sentences – the need for death, dismemberment, destruction can be likewise explained to us, so we can make a good decision.

Use your information literacy skills to be sure facts are accurate, claims are not overblown. Tell your legislators you value their honesty, their clear thought, their ability to make hard decisions, and their truthfulness. They need to hear this – and you may be the voice that helps them to do their best job for everyone.

Because, my life was changed forever by war before I was even born.

Millions of other people have been changed in millions of other ways, and even if every war in the entire world magically stopped today – that’s already going to last for decades.

Be thoughtful in your support of destruction.

The quote “All gave some; some gave all,” is popular among vets. Let’s do what we can to keep down those numbers of people who have to give. Fewer dead soldiers would be a wonderful way to honor the memories of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

It’s the best way I know of to celebrate Memorial Day.