Life On The Brink Of War

Articles

Pepe

Life On The Brink Of War
Mar 19, 2003

Here we sit on the brink of war. Tonight is the deadline that President Bush has set for Saddam and his sons to leave Iraq. Of course, Saddam has refused; we all pretty much knew he would. And now the world waits to see when war will begin.

Yesterday a co-worker of mine forwarded an email to me. It was from a college buddy of his who is stationed in Saudi Arabia. The letter was a transparent look into the life of a soldier on the brink of war. The power of the letter was its simplicity, its raw description of military life.

I hadn't thought about it much lately before reading this soldier's letter, how soldiers are just people like us. This young man spoke about how he needed to make sure he was prepared for a chemical attack. He regretted the social life he was missing but getting used to. Since the President's ultimatum his work day had become 12 hours long, with no days off. And he pitied those of his comrades who were on the front line without the benefits he enjoyed -- a hot shower and hot food. In fact, the food there was so good, it "kicked a__".

One thing especially struck me about his letter. He wished he did not have to be in the place he was right now. And yet he did not want to be anywhere else in the world. His words struck me as those of an ordinary guy in an extraordinary situation. No, that's wrong. He's a hero in a extraordinary situation. A guy willing to risk his life for my freedom.

So here I sit in my home, wondering what will happen. Wondering how war will affect my kids and my wife.

Before the first Gulf war began so many years ago, I feared that the start of hostilities would dramatically impact my daily life. The reality was that the war had very little impact in my day- to-day dealings.

Now I wonder if that will be true again. The difference this time, of course, is 9/11. That terrible event brought the front of war to the soil of our continent. And now the possibility of the war front being in my back yard is very real.

Ironically, my biggest concern today is not war in my back yard. It is the snow. Here in Colorado we are buried under the dumpings of a huge storm. One like we have not seen in years. This may be the biggest I have ever seen here. So today, while war sits in the back of my mind, an ever present temptation to fear, my immediate concerns are how to dig out and resume normal life.

But what will normal life be once the war has begun?

I've often wondered how people live when war rages around them. This is something most Americans never experienced in the twentieth century. There was no war on continental soil. Yet this may become a reality soon. Will I or my wife or my children be the victims of a terrorist attack? How dangerous will our existence be?

Ironically, if terrorists attack here in America, the front of the war will have come closer to the victims of those attacks, than it may come to the soldier in Saudi Arabia. While he is a known distance to the war front, everyone here is an unknown distance to the front.

And I wonder about the reports given weeks ago about three ships apparently loaded with unknown cargo from Iraq. Supposedly British and American forces were tracking the ships, but they had strict orders not to attempt to board them. Speculations were that the ships may carry weapons of mass destruction, ready to unleash a major catastrophe if threatened.

Today I wonder. Do these ships really exist? Are they a threat? Does their cargo somehow have the ability to bring the war front to the entire world?

My fear perhaps should be greater. Yet in many ways I am numb. Life is overwhelming in many ways. War and the threat of terror today seems just one more enemy to life in a harsh world filled with disease and accidents and crime. I suppose until the first attack hits our soil, the reality of war's threat will be relegated to a corner of my mind. It will be a splinter that irritates regularly, but something that I can put aside if I avoid certain movements.

Meanwhile, life marches forward. There is snow to shovel. My kids still have school work. My son's hockey game this Friday is still on schedule. My daughter will continue her various therapies for her cerebral palsy. Preparations for recitals and performances continue. There are groceries to buy and vehicles to maintain. And I have to keep working a job to bring home money to live.

I can't help but think that my life will change in dramatic ways over the next several months. Perhaps the unthinkable will happen to me or mine. I don't know how I'd cope if something happened to my wife or my kids. But in the meantime, we have to carry on life the best we can -- sitting here on the brink of war.

About the author: Pepe is a writer, whose day job as a software engineer keeps him from writing as much as he wants. His work has appeared in several magazines and periodicals. His take on life sometimes gets him a little out of step with the rest of society, but he keeps marching in the parade. You can reach him at wrob@usa.com.

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