Bring the troops home.
I’d like to see a similar photo spread of the empty bedrooms in Iraq, too…
Sad, sad, sad. Bring them home.
So, so true.
I was on a flight from Chicago to Memphis tonight and ran into a woman with whom I’d worked on an earlier project. She’s a master’s-prepared nurse at St. Jude’s, so she’s working in one of the noblest professions at one of the noblest institutions. (Not that it matters what she does or where she works, but still . . .) During our rushed, walking-through-the-airport conversation, with her grandchild in her arms and her husband and one of her sons in tow, she told me that another of her sons had been killed in Afghanistan earlier this year.
Forwhat did this mother and father’s son and this brother’s brother die?
I noticed that her husband was wearing dog tags. Were they his from his time in the service, or were they his son’s?]
Andrew Bacevich raised this same question in a magnificentMemorial Day piece.
[I made the mistake of wading into the comments section – not surprisingly, wingnuts, (surely some of them chickenhawks) were quick to savage him as a librul ideologue using his son as a prop. Truly sickening.]
She told me that addition of her sons had been dead in Afghanistan beforehand this year.
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