Unpopular Opinion: Air Strikes Are Acts of Love

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tattered-american-flag_2436462Living in Korea taught me a lot of unexpected lessons, not the least of these are tied to the US military. I learned a lot about the men and women serving our country during that year, and dating an Air Force Staff Sergeant has taught me even more than I could have learned on my own. You see, before I left for Korea I would have considered myself a left-leaning moderate. Like most Americans, though I considered some force justified in specific situations, I couldn’t wrap my head around the whole killing other people thing.

From the outside, it looks like our soldiers kill insurgents. It appears that air strikes, while largely harming civilians, are probably a necessary evil in times of war. Many of us can even justify the killing of civilians for “the cause”–whatever that is. However, I always saw these deaths as a sort of elitist scapegoat. From the outside, it appears that American service members look at the people they’re fighting and see something less than human, less than themselves. And from the outside it appears that this is how killing is justified.

We are all familiar with the rhetoric that these gun-wielding, sandal-wearing, IED-burying men (and women) are “animals.” And as such, we can justify the killings. They are not human, they are “animal” and they are undeserving of our compassion. Now, the left-leaners get all hot and bothered at this point, talking about how these are people, not animals, and that killing them indiscriminately makes our brave men and women the animals, or monsters. I agree that this as justification for the deaths of innocents takes us to a level of “monster” I’m not comfortable with. But this is all the view from the outside.

The media baits us, all of us, throughout the country, with it’s harmful and misleading rhetoric. From the outside, we see our armed forces killing civilians without concern. From the outside, war-mongers and conservatives shoot off their guns in rag-head justice approval. From the outside, liberals watch the decay of the empathy and intelligence that brought out the highest highs of humanity. From the outside it looks like it’s “us against them,” but if history has taught us anything, it’s that this war doesn’t matter. That’s not to say it isn’t a necessary evil, but consider the fact that the United States is the ONLY country to ever drop a nuclear bomb. And the country we crippled is now one of our strongest Asian allies. We put Japanese-Americans in camps in our own country because we feared them, and now we’re best buddies.

The view from the inside looks much different, from what I’m beginning to understand. With few exceptions there are no men or women that really enjoy taking a life. And the ones sent to do just that are pawns in this dangerous game, controlled by someone who gets paid a helluva lot more than they do. Our gun-wielding, boot-wearing, air-striking patriots do not decide where to go and who to kill. Those decisions are far beyond their pay grade. They simply do all they can to ensure that the guy to the left and right of them gets home.

It’s as simple and as complicated as that. Drone strikes are an act of love when called upon to cease the gunfire. Someone is proud of their job calling in air strikes because it allows them to keep their guys alive. They kill because they love.

In a way this does become an “us against them” mentality, almost indiscriminately. But, rather than viewing air strikes as something disconnected and impersonal, I challenge other laymen (as I am absolutely one of these when it comes to the military) to see it as intensely personal–more than you could possibly imagine. Do you think that, given the technology, the man shooting at you wouldn’t hit the red button and blow you sky high? Sure, maybe he’s doing it for some convoluted and fetishized version of God, but he’s also doing it to save his own ass. To save his buddies’ asses. To keep his family and his way of life safe.

Air strikes are acts of love that cause carnage. Tell me about a time where love existed and there was no danger. Tell me about the time you loved someone and there was no passion. There would be no need for love if it weren’t for hate. Sometimes the most beautiful acts of love are disguised as inexcusable acts of war. Perspective. In war, killing is an act of love.

Goodbye Is A Dirty Word

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Throughout our lives we will say goodbye many times. Most of us say “goodbye” in some form every day. Somehow, when taken out of context, goodbye seems so permanent. I’ve had my fair share of all too emotional goodbyes, some permanent, some not. The one goodbye I wish I could have said came too late for it to mean anything to its recipient and that moment, that goodbye, will haunt me in some way for the rest of my life.

I’ve told this story countless times, but it’s worth mentioning again here. The last night I spoke to my father—the last time I saw him alive—I almost left the house without saying goodbye. I yelled up to his office on the second floor to say “see you on Friday” as my friends and I tried to quickly exit and be on our way to Halloween celebrations. He called down for me to wait and he came downstairs to where we were, in the kitchen, almost through the door. He gave me a big hug and what could have been seen as an embarrassing parent kiss and said: “You know we don’t leave without a hug and a kiss and saying I love you. You never know when the last time will be.”

Well, people, that was the last time. Lesson learned. If someone means something to you, if you love them, before you leave you better tell them. You never know when the last time will be.

Rolling my eyes I smiled and said “I love you” and left with my friends. Two days later I would be called out of class to receive the most devastating news of my life. I would have to say my final goodbye to a blue-turning corpse in a cold, uncomfortable hospital room as my world quickly fell to pieces.

These days I say “I love you” a lot. Maybe too much for some people. When I hang up the phone, when I leave a night out or get on a bus to go home I remember to say “goodbye,” “see you tomorrow,” and usually “I love you.” Before it’s too late, I want to say my final goodbyes to the people and place I have called home for the last eight months. There are four more months left on my contract in Korea and after that, I’m gone from here for the foreseeable future. Many of my friends are leaving before that. Some have even seemingly decided to make it easier on themselves by not saying goodbye, not leaving, and just silently slipping away. That one really stings, but to each their own.

After living, studying abroad and making a family in Australia, goodbyes came too soon. I cried…a lot. Not for the people I was leaving, because, ultimately, I can see them again. I cried for the circumstance. I cried because never again in my life will I be in that place, with those people, in the same mindset, ever again. It’s almost like mourning for a time you can never get back. It’s almost as hard as mourning for a person you’ll never get back.

In a few short weeks someone I’ve become extremely close to over the last few months will leave. A couple weeks after that, another will go. And this will continue until I make my final exit to sweatier pastures in August. Before you all leave and we become swept up into another world and another life adventure, I want to tell you all how much I love you. Without you, this year would not have been what it was and my life would not become what it is about to. I’ve fallen in love over and over again with the kindness, sincerity, humor, stability and support of your beautiful souls and I cannot say thank you enough.

The first one to leave will be the hardest to let go. Because of who this person is, how much I love them and because they’re first. I’ve always ALWAYS said that leaving is the easy part. The people left behind suffer far more than the person moving on. They leave for new adventures, excitement, chaos and uncertainty. They get wrapped up into a new world and are constantly on the go. It is the people left behind who truly mourn for their presence. In a way it’s like living with a ghost. One that you still talk to and love unconditionally, but that is obviously, noticeably not physically around you anymore.

I have a habit of running away from this feeling. I don’t want to feel sad or like I’ve lost a piece of me, or like my perfect little circle of trust is crumbling around me. But this time I have no choice. I am contractually obligated to stick this shit out, grin and bear it. Choice or no choice there is only one remedy for these feelings and this situation. It is to stay ever-present in the moment. Don’t look too far ahead or behind each day, but remember to appreciate all that you have RIGHT NOW, here, at this moment, because soon it won’t be the same. And once that change is made, you will never get back what you have now.

Life and people are transient, and that’s the beauty in it all. People change, circumstance changes. You always have the opportunity to be with those people again, in another way, but while we’re here, right now, I say we celebrate and raise (several) glasses to the love we have found in each other.

I love you all so very much and I will carry you and your influence with me wherever I go. Thank you for being the best family I could have dreamed of.

Love Always,
Kate