Mr. Speaker, I rise to draw to the attention of my colleagues an article written by my friend Princeton Economist Uwe Reinhardt. Dr. Reinhardt is well known to many of us in Congress because of his expertise in health care policy. He's an…
Mr. Speaker, I rise to draw to the attention of my colleagues an article written by my friend Princeton Economist Uwe Reinhardt. Dr. Reinhardt is well known to many of us in Congress because of his expertise in health care policy. He's an advisor I rely on for his keen insights, knowledge, and his wit--not a characteristic identified in many health economists.
What many of my colleagues may not know is that Dr. Reinhardt and his wife, May, have a son who is serving in the U.S. Marines on the front lines in Iraq.
Dr. Reinhardt grew up in Germany and saw the horrors of war as a young boy there. His words deserve our attention. He's right. Our thoughts and prayers should extend to all involved in war and against any loss of human life--civilian, military, American or Iraqi.
I commend Dr. Reinhardt's article for your attention. His sentiments are ones I share completely and I thank him for being able to so eloquently say what many of us feel. I hope others will take his words to heart.
[From the New York Times, Mar. 22, 2003]
Innocents in Uniform
(By Uwe E. Reinhardt)
Princeton, NJ.--CNN recently showed a Marine chaplain
admonishing the platoon assembled before him: Pray not only
for yourself, he told them, but for your enemies as well.
After all, they are just soldiers, like you, doing what they
are ordered to do.
What a refreshing departure these words were from what I've
been hearing from the civilian sector, where the talk is
mainly of minimizing coalition casualties or, in more
generous moments, innocent Iraqi civilian casualties as well.
I wince every time I hear that kind of talk, especially the
reference to innocence. Should not the proper minimum in any
war be loss of human life, period--which in this case
includes Iraqi soldiers, too?
My earliest childhood memories were forged by war--real
war. My family lived near one of the most ferocious battle
grounds of the European war theater--the notorious Hurtgen
forest, where American and German soldiers fought one another
in hand-to-hand combat for more than four months in the fall
of 1944. A plaque at one of the military cemeteries in the
area notes that more American soldiers died there than in
Vietnam, and surely as many or more German soldiers were
killed there too.
My family lived opposite a convent that had been converted
into a field hospital for the nearby front. I was a small boy
then, and watching the ambulances come and go (sometimes
peeking curiously into them), I could not help but become
witness daily to the horrors of war. Millions of Europeans of
my generation, whom many Americans now disparage so
contemptuously as pacifists, had a similar experience.
Because we lived so near the Battle of the Bulge and the
advancing, allied forces, our village was strafed and bombed
routinely. One such attack came as my friends and I were
playing outside. We ran as the planes approached, taking
shelter in the cavernous basement of the convent. There we
spied a row of stretchers. On each was a body covered
entirely by a blanket. Possibly to overcome our own terror,
we dared one another to pull back a blanket on one of the
stretchers, to see what a dead man looked like. Someone did.
We fell silent instantly as we beheld the serene, waxen face
of a very young soldier who could not have been older than 16
or 17.
More than 50 years later, I can still see his face clearly.
The shock of it recurs whenever I hear the chirpy anchors on
the morning programs (not to mention the hawkish talking
heads) prattle on about innocent civilians, as if the number
of fallen enemy soldiers did not count. What does
``innocent'' mean in the context of war?
I am almost certain that the young German soldier my
friends and I saw so many years ago in that convent basement
was as innocent as those of us who weren't in uniform. For
all we know, he had grown up on a farm somewhere and, while
fighting in the trenches, dreamed of his girlfriend and of
life as an adult in peaceful times. For all we know, he would
have happily quit fighting and joined the allies. (He didn't
have much of a choice: some German generals strung up on
trees the bodies of young soldiers who had deserted, a
powerful warning to their peers.)
Perhaps many of the Iraqi soldiers, too, find themselves
where they are because they have no other choice. After all,
is not Saddam Hussein a ruthless dictator, and are not some
of his generals likely to be as cruel as their Wehrmacht
counterparts?
My hope is that Americans can muster the proper decorum
that an enterprise as horrible as war demands. There is
nothing neat about maiming and killing people with precision
bombs from the air or gunfire on the ground--even if they're
wearing enemy uniforms. Young lives are snuffed out; parents,
siblings and lovers weep, and so should we. We want our
troops to win a quick victory, to be sure. As the father of a
young Marine officer on the front lines in Iraq, I certainly
do. But let us heed that Marine chaplain
who, like anyone who has ever witnessed war, knows whereof he
speaks. Let us hope and pray for a minimum loss of human
life--period.