THE "AWFUL EMPTY CHAIR" AT THE TABLE

Grief is magnified during the holidays, and with the toll in Iraq steadily mounting, there are now thousands of families across the U.S. who are faced, like Sergeant Baker's relatives, with an awful empty space at their Thanksgiving tables.

…"For everybody, it's the same horrible loss. It's the same tragedy. It doesn't make any difference whether someone was for or against the war…The pain is the same."
--"The Empty Chair at the Table," Bob Herbert, New York Times, November 23, 2006


Rex told his dad that he had "seen more and done more than any 21-year old ought to have to in an entire lifetime!" That was about a month before his death. Rex no longer has the nightmares and sleepless nights, he no longer has to worry about shooting women and children or losing his "nerve". God has removed the fear and wiped the tears away for Rex. A sniper took his life, but God has the capacity to infuse suffering with purpose.
--Personal letter from Edie Page, mother of Pfc. Rex Page, to me, in response to a letter of condolence I sent to her when Rex, who was a member of my son's platoon, was killed in the Anbar province of Iraq on June 28, 2006


I've been told I am obsessed with the war in Iraq. From those who do not understand the nature of that obsession, I have been criticized, even mocked, for my passionate beliefs concerning this war.

It does not help that I held those beliefs long before the March 2003 invasion of Iraq. It does not help that every single thing I said--or shouted--before that invasion has now come to pass. It does not even help that the majority of the American public finally came around three years, eight months, and 2, 869 American deaths in Iraq and 351 American dead in Afghanistan, and 21,485 maimings and mutilations of American soldiers and Marines later to realizing that it just might not have been worth it.

It sounds very patriotic to refer to brave women like Edie Page as GOLD STAR MOTHERS. A gold star is, after all, a good thing. It's what kindergarten teachers sometimes put on the papers of their students who have done well.

It's a way to soothe ourselves and make ourselves feel better. We hold them up to heroic standards and give stirring speeches about their patriotic and noble sacrifices for their country.

It doesn't feel very patriotic, however, when the box arrives a couple months after the dead are buried. The one full of their things from the war: their letters from home and their CD's and their pictures of their kids or their wives or girlfriends or moms and dads, and their Bibles and their teddy bears and their favorite mementoes that remind them of home and their combat boots.

Did you know that the Army unit who is tasked with sorting through those things and packing them up for the families has to limit their rotations to three months?

This is because the stress is so terrible for them, so awful, that the human psyche just can't bear it for any longer than that without suffering symptoms of severe post traumatic stress.

You sit there all day long, for three months, sorting through those treasures and lovingly packing them up for grieving families, and see how well you hold up. Though they take their jobs very seriously and are very proud of what they do, when it gets right down to it, most of them who do this would rather get shot at.

And then the box gets home and families often put up makeshift shrines to their beloved soldier or Marine. They put up the posthumous Purple Heart and the other medals, and the snapshots, and the high school sports trophies, and the horse show ribbons, and the tri-cornered flag.

This is all they have left.

Some mothers, like Celeste Zappala, the mother of Sherwood Baker, the soldier who was written about so eloquently in Bob Herbert's piece, become peace activists. They join organizations like Gold Star Families for Peace or Military Families Speak Out. They protest the bloodbath.

That doesn't help either, really.

"Where's the comfort in being right?" Mrs. Zappala asked. "Everything we said was right. Sherwood died looking for weapons of mass destruction that didn't exist. All the nonsense about the al Qaeda connections and Sept. 11th. They were all lies. It was all wrong. But none of that brings Sherwood back to the table."
--"The Empty Chair at the Table," Bob Herbert, New York Times, November 23, 2006

Others, like my son's buddy Rex's mom, search for meaning in their personal religious faith, and cling to that to get them through the harrowing nights and endless days.

We have now lost just about as many soldiers and Marines to the Iraq war as we lost in the Twin Towers and the Pentagon on 9/11.

In Iraq, IN ONE MONTH ALONE, they lost--and continue to lose--at least that many--probably many more. Every month. And while they do most of it to themselves, it was this administration who used American troops as if they were, say, a big bodyguard, ordered by the CEO to take a baseball bat to smash a gigantic hornet's nest. They're now being asked to stand still while the hornets swarm around their head and sting their eyes, nose, and mouth because nobody seems to know what else to do. The CEO of course, will never get stung.

Those who insist that what we must continue standing by the hornet's nest, that it's the right and true thing, use twisted statistics to back up their case.

Like the one about how re-enlistments are at an all-time high.

I saw one Republican congressman refer to this as, "The men and women fighting this war know they have a real mission to accomplish. That's why their re-enlistments are higher than ever."

Sounds great, until you talk to the actual soldiers and Marines. You find out then that many of them are forced to remain in the service EVEN WHEN IT IS TIME TO RETIRE.

The most common tactic being used by the military service right now to ensure re-enlistment is to threaten that if they do not re-enlist, that they will be sent back to the war, and then promised that, if they do re-enlist, they will not have to go back for at least two years. The confused--usually young--troops then sign the papers--and are promptly sent back to war.

This is the truth. This is what is happening. It's called the back-door draft.

That doesn't even count those who muster out, then get married, start a family, maybe sign up for college only to be called back in and sent back to war.

It's the dirty little secret behind all the yellow ribbons, waving flags, and anti-draft debates.

"This is why so many are getting out, even though they intended to spend a career in the military. They're being treated dirty. That's not right. Just because we're at war doesn't mean you can't be treated right."
--the wife of a retired Brigadier General, in an e-mail to me


Today, Thanksgiving Day, three more Marines died in the Anbar. That means that on Thanksgiving Day, maybe just as the families were about to sit down to dinner, they got the dreaded knock on the door and their lives were stripped bare to the bone.

Today, Thanksgiving Day, thousands of American troops are serving in a war for the second, third, or fourth family holiday in the past four or five years.

Their children are growing up without them, and there is still an awful empty chair at the table, even though they will--hopefully--return one day to take their seats. I can tell you, from experience, that it is a horrible way to spend a holiday. You don't just miss them, you are terrified for them. And they try so hard to be brave when all they want is just to come home.

But Edie Page's boy will not be among the number who gets to come home. Not now. Not ever. He was a big, sweet, goofy, funny, kind-hearted Marine who was utterly dependable in battle and a friend to all who knew him. He was cherished by his family and beloved by his buddies.

He lived 21 years on this earth.

It's not enough.

People say I'm obsessed by this war.

Until all those Thanksgiving tables are full again, you're damn right I'll be obsessed.

GOD BLESS YOU, MEN AND WOMEN OF OUR ARMED FORCES WHO FIGHT SO VERY FAR FROM HOME ON THIS DAY.

YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN.