
I'm hanging round the Military Armory Barracks in Norwalk CT which seems strange to me in the best of circumstances. I guess you could call this a remote blog entry from the scene of one of our military recruitment and staging bunkers here in Connecticut. It’s a muddy, rainy day, way too warm for this not to have something to do with global warming, and I’m thinking of a wall of water and ice barreling down Wall street towards the hiding place of the only survivors of the bird flu. My son plays a game called
Warhammer which involves little soldiers in big, expensive armies, from a far distant past or future, which is very different with lots of craggy terrain, dice and, measuring devices.
I guess that a lot of our real soldiers are what they call Gamers. When the local gaming store that was one of the only Gamer hangs in the area closed down, the soldier Gamers offered this post as the host for once a month gaming. In return they would display their recruitment material to the youngsters playing there. So here we are again with the recruiter soldiers who were left behind rattling round the barracks when their unit got called up to go somewhere (and I’m thinking that its New Orleans.)
They try to drum up business in a poor part of a blue town that’s on the eastern edge of a very blue state. It’s a lonely job and if it weren’t for the inner city kids around here, it would be totally dead enlistment-wise. I can tell that some of these guys feel pretty bad. But I can also tell that some of them are blindly following the commander in chief. The Warhammer kids are largely white middle to upper class
geeky boys who are not military material…and are liberals anyway, so they make snide comments about the commander and the whole thing has apparently gotten some of the soldiers upset.
The gaming personality is part slacker and part OCD, with a certain geek thing going on. These are kids who can learn the whole
Klingon language but maybe have a little trouble figuring out exactly the invisible social space line. There is this naïve inner self of pretend that doesn’t seem to grow away with time and too many of these kids seem to grow up without outgrowing their fantasy worlds. I understand escapism but the trouble with me is that, once I got past a certain age, I lost my ability to submerge enough in make believe to forget that the world was grinding along out there. I need to be aware and worried and involved. Also, what is fantastic for a teenager becomes pretty sad as these guys get up into their 30's and beyond.
So, here we find our soldiers ensconced in a lot of war play, be it video gaming, fantasy D&D, or this Warhammer thing. Its very time consuming and I guess they find it relaxing, but it’s a little disconcerting to me to see a table of grown men playing a game that is so involved that it rules out talking about other things during gameplay.
Once a month I find myself at this military installation where the kids play in the truck bay on terrain boards of all kinds, directing their carefully glued and painted soldiers with impossible names like Abadon the Destroyer and Khorne. Dice are rolled, rules are discussed and debated, and points are figured, across the moonscape of epic battles. This goes on for hours as they play a complicated tournament round after round. I go to McDonalds, read the Sunday Paper and run errands. It’s a long day.
When the email announcement came out this month, the guy who is running this club added a spiel about how we have to realize that this is a soldier's place and how we shouldn't express our opinions on politics and we should be careful to respect the soldiers and not hurt their feelings. Someone had said something to a soldier or that a soldier could hear last time and we shouldn’t do that…OK. When we got here the sign out front listed the rules and by far my favorite one was "no politics"...which, of course, totally pisses me off considering that we are in a facility that is paid for with tax dollars and that exists to protect our right to free speech.
The back of my car is covered with bumper stickers, and its parked next to my sister’s car which has some more bumper stickers, and I’ve been wearing a button around since the first year of Bush’s first term. But I was sure that the email wasn’t referring to all of that because, of course, its free speech and I’m supportive of the troops, who mostly, by the way, mirror the country in the polls. If some kid had bothered a soldier then the kid should be barred from the club, but a button or shirt or sticker…? Well, I couldn’t imagine…Cindy Sheehan has just been carried from the SOTU speech for a T shirt that didn’t even say anything! But that was Cindy Sheehan! We cant be losing so much that our military is in the dark as to the constitution that they are defending. So, now that I have read all the laws on this sort of thing which were reported on by all the liberal blogs after the Cindy Sheehan thing, I really am not worried. I wouldn’t go out of my way to voice my opinion, but I also wouldn’t change anything about my usual run around town in jeans self. Hell, I just got a new button with a picture of Bush’s face that says FUCKTARD across it, but I didn’t put that on because I didn’t want to go out of my way to offend or bother anyone.
Well, I wasn't here for ten minutes before I felt the neocon soldier's eyes on my
Bush LIAR button and saw that little shake of the head and look that comes from the surety of being right as told by the likes of Rush or O'Reilly. How can he have even found my button so fast? Its like they sweep the room for anything that might upset the President, even in his absence, and a magnetic force drags them to the searing pain of the cross on Dracula’s skin!.
I guess he complained to the guy who runs this thing and the second banana guy waved me over to talk. I told the guy that we might have a very big problem here because he was talking about my right to free speech. I didn't put my button on to come to this place and I certainly am not going to take it off to come here. I was the one who wore these things even before everyone realized how screwed up everything was; before, when it seemed like you were unpatriotic if you didn't support the war....but then, I supported Afghanistan, and I support any war that makes sense. And any war that really makes sense, especially ones that involve humanitarian actions, are usually supported by the UN (which may have prevented this whole thing in the first place when the Taliban was first taking hold. But that was about human rights, not…um…oil…er…human rights…um…Democracy!) I think that there are justified wars, but this one unfortunately wasn’t. I made sure that if I was going to make a statement that I knew what was going on so that I could talk about it to the neocon karate instructor and whoever else wandered by in the parking lot.
Above all I am a Patriot and I support fully the real thing that this country stands for and what people have fought and died for: our freedom. If we start shutting up because the government, media, or our community is sending the message that it is wrong to have a different opinion then we are not being truly patriotic. Our country stands for the mix of different opinions that allow for balance, yada, yada, yada…. and I get so furious when I feel the air get heavy and then some disapproving stare...call me a rebel but I'll be damned if I'm going to be silenced by anyone, much less by one red person in a blue state.
So, #2 man comes to tell me that this soldier feels that my Bush LIAR button is a slap in the face. But, of course the soldier wouldn’t come over and tell me himself and they really didn’t want me to go and talk to him. They couldn’t do anything to me and most of them agree with me, but this guy is …um…hurt.
This guy: He is the short one with the belly…he has his hair shaved on the sides and lets it form a muffin top on top. He almost looks like an Easter egg….and he is a touchy guy. I try to understand and I genuinely feel empathy for him, but he is over reacting to a button. It is only words and if he holds the real conviction of loyalty to his commander in chief then no one should be able to upset or sway him from his kool-aid. I realize also that these few guys are here all alone except for times like Katrina when they used this bay to sort supplies brought by the community and there was alot of action. I know that they haven’t been to Iraq and I realize that if this one is bothered so horribly by a button then what might happen if someone yells “go home dirty American” on the streets of Iraq, or an angry flood victim criticizes the response….so, maybe that’s why he has been assigned to stay behind. I don’t think he has the personality to occupy a hostile area.
I am filled with pity and a sort of love for this guy....not so much his tall, blonde co-workers with their muscles, but this little guy who is so sensitive with his muffin hair and paunch. I don’t know what his life might be like on the outside or why he joined up, but this tense afternoon of staring back at him and typing on my new phone with tiny keypad, makes me sad that I cant take off my button for him just so he will feel better. He’s been lied to and his friends are dying. He is clinging to the only thing that makes sense, because the reality of this thing is too horrible to fathom. In a military that prosecutes its lowest enlisted soldiers for crimes from the top rather than look at what’s really wrong in the whole action and institution, I can see how important it would be to have the commander be infallible. So here he is….Poor guy…playing his game…