Leaning On The Fence
No, I haven’t jumped over it, but I’m sitting here leaning on it, watching very carefully what’s happening on the other side.
I sat glued to the TV this morning, watching—as I’m sure millions of other people were—the toppling of yet another statue of Saddam. I got a peculiar sense of satisfaction when it was finally down and people were dragging the head of Hussein through the streets (I also had that moment of horror when the marine put the US Flag over Saddam’s head before it came down, and was not surprised to hear that even people at the Pentagon audibly gasped.) I wondered how long the elation of the people would last, and if tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, they would take a second look at the troops there and decide that they’re not welcome after all.
Since the war started, I’ve watched off and on—trying to limit the overwhelming exposure that would surely just make me apathetic—but I’ve had a deep seeded need to know what’s going on and how well our troops are doing.
I didn’t think we should be there, no. But we are there, and as long as we are there, I’d like to see it end as swiftly as possible, with as few casualties as possible, and yes, I want our guys to win. I look at the paper every morning hoping to see confirmation that Hussein is dead.
If that makes me a bad person, or a hypocrite, so be it. I just want this over, and since our troops are there, I want them to do what they were sent to do. I want them to spring to victory.
After all, the sooner this is over, the sooner they can come home.