Halfway

"You can only go halfway into the darkest forest; then you're coming out the otherside."
~ Chinese Proverb

To Live or Perish Forever

I just finished reading Nicholas Schmidle's book on Pakistan, To Live or Perish Forever.

Schmidle spent two years wandering around Pakistan, getting the lay of the land, and meeting local political leaders. The book was a quick read, as Schmidle keeps the narrative going smoothly.

Schmidle comes from a military family, one who was serving in Iraq and Afghanistan while he was in Pakistan. Yet he was routinely interviewing Taliban and al-Queda leaders as part of his journalistic effort to discover the soul of Pakistan. Schmidle treats these characters with extreme humanity. Despite his own inner conflict at the idea that many of these people could be organizing attacks that could injure the people he loved, he grew to like some of them, even to the point of considering a few friends.

These high placed contacts, coupled with the people on the street view he gains as he lives, works, and interacts with his neighbors, give true insight into the battle for Pakistan that is playing out.

Will Pakistan be able to hold on to a secular identity in the face of rising Islamist power? Will its many ethnic minorities stay united with Pakistan, or will they seek to control their own fates in nations of their own? Will corrupt intelligence and government institutions ultimately break Pakistan?

These are questions Schmidle doesn't have answers to. But what he does learn makes one point very clear. If peace is to find the region, we must have a greater understanding of the culture, history, and power brokers. We must also think regionally in our strategies. The questions of Afghanistan and Pakistan cannot be solved independently of each other. Gretchen Peters book Seeds of Terror also illustrates this point quite dramatically when analyzing the connections between drugs, money, weapons, and militias that flow through the porous borders.

Good book. Certainly gives you lots to think about.

Remember the Fallen- Cpl. Jamie Lowe, USMC

A local Marine was recently killed in Afghanistan. He was laid to rest last week. May God be with his friends and family.









Photo Credit: Denny Simmons- Courier Press

Ashbah by Brian Turner

The ghosts of American soldiers

wander the streets of Balad by night,

unsure of their way home, exhausted,

the desert wind blowing trash

down the narrow alleys as a voice

sounds from the minaret,

a soulfull call

reminding them how alone they are,

how lost. And the Iraqi dead,

they watch in silence from rooftops

as date palms line the shore

in silhouette,

leaning toward Mecca when the dawn wind blows.

From Here, Bullet. Copyright 2005 by Brian Turner.

Riding in Cars with Boys

I was thinking about ways war changes people today.

I was hanging out with a buddy recently, who just returned from a year in Iraq. He spent most of that time driving a humvee up and down the crazy roads of in and around Anbar Province.

Anybody else have that first experience of riding in the car, with the boy (or girl) driving--after the deployment?

Things are going along fine, you're deciding where to eat and just catching up. Then all the sudden, out of nowhere, you are on the other side of the road, half in a ditch. The boy is screaming and cursing, reaching for a weapon that isn't there, and you are left trying to figure out what the heck just happened.

In retrospect, it makes sense. The insides of an old cassette tape and a little loose wire running across the road. A discarded bag of fast food trash.

Freaking IEDs.

Needless to say, I drove the rest of the trip.

It has been a few weeks now, and it is a funny incident that we all laugh at, and he pokes fun at himself for.

Thing is, it's really not that funny.

It's the war, in the After.

The Strength in Us All

I have met some amazing women in my life. This one is for them, they know who they are. The poem was written by Vera Brittain, after the loss of her brother and husband in the Great War. Vera was also an amazing woman, for she also served as a nurse during the war. Then, having lost almost every important man in her life, she rebuilt to become an author and poet. To the Strength in us all....

Perhaps (To R.A.L.)

Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel once more I do not live in vain,
Although bereft of You.

Perhaps the golden meadows at my feet
Will make the sunny hours of spring seem gay,
And I shall find the white May-blossoms sweet,
Though You have passed away.

Perhaps the summer woods will shimmer bright,
And crimson roses once again be fair,
And autumn harvest fields a rich delight,
Although You are not there.

Perhaps some day I shall not shrink in pain
To see the passing of the dying year,
And listen to Christmas songs again,
Although You cannot hear.'

But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago.

Go Colts

Can't wait for the Colts game today.

Talked to the bestie last night. First time I've really gotten to talk to him for any length of time in the past couple of weeks. The Marines are keeping him crazy busy in final prep for the deployment.

But there is always time for football. We are both rabid Colts fans. Hoping they do better than they have in previous playoff games and that the whole resting the starters drama doesn't come back to bite us.

Bestie says to wear the Freeney jersey for this game, so #93 it is.

Go Colts!