While visiting with a young Army officer whom I greatly admire, it struck me that she is the same age as President Bush’s daughters. And while the officer talked about her pending second deployment to Iraq and her hellish mental and emotional preparations, it occurred to me that one of those daughters now is preparing for such things as wedding invitations, decorations, etc., all the accouterments of a joyous occasion.
And none of that do I hold against her. That’s just normal life and a wonderful part of it.
But the contrast between what these young women are preparing for struck me.
The officer — a crackerjack with sparkle, intelligence and, odd for an Army officer, genuine beauty — has had a meteoric career of raves from her superiors. She should have been making her own more hopeful plans by now, but the Army held her in the service with a stop-loss, which is the military’s way of saying you simply can’t leave. Too bad.
She spoke of her mission with rather gruesome gravity: “We all talk about this, how we’d rather die immediately than have to think about it for a few minutes. Or how we’d rather lose a leg than an arm. I’d like it that way so I could still play piano, write and hug my husband.”
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How these young people can discuss such things without bitter outrage at their situation amazes me. The debate over whether we should even be in Iraq has reached a fever level, and these people just suck it up and go. At least this time, unlike Vietnam, I think people really do understand that the war is an issue separate from our affection for these people and their dedication to duty, to us.
Which brings me back to Jenna Bush, the bride-to-be.
I tried to put myself in her place, or at least to put my point of view in her place.
If George W. Bush were my father and I understood that his legacy will rest on Iraq and the outcome there, even at age 25 — heck, at age 15 or 5 — I’d want to do everything possible to support him.
I’d be wearing the hats, the shirts, even the socks of the people in uniform, and I’d be hitting every military base they’d allow me on and start talking it up.
Britain’s Prince Harry and his possible deployment aside, I think people can understand why I wouldn’t be heading for the front lines myself. It would be for the same reason most able-bodied people aren’t heading for the front lines: We have a long list of other things we’d rather be doing.
But that wouldn’t stop me from doing everything in my power to support my father. I’d be the best public relations person a president ever had.
Likewise, if I were the president and had a couple of fresh-faced daughters who are, if anything, older examples of many of the kids we’re shipping overseas, I think I’d enlist them in the war effort here at home. Just public relations, mind you, but there would be so much they could do to speak to young people about the serious fix we’re in.
That’s it. That’s just an observation. My officer friend said she thinks about all that. But she also has a job to do.
And that’s what makes her and those like her all the more amazing.
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