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I knew bush's invasion rhetoric was bullshit way back in summer of 2002. Most people in the world knew. Even the majority of Americans knew.
But in November 2002 I dared to post my opinion, that bush was lying thru his teeth, on a board I'd been a member of for years.
I was attacked, sent death threats, cyber-stalked, and generally went through what people such as Scott Ritter went through, but on a much smaller and more personal level. My design business was boycotted and the rabid rightwingnuts threatened to get at my husband in various ways.
My husband is active duty army, 20 years in. He, and most his unit, also knew this "threat" and "WMD" and "liberation" rhetoric was all bullshit. But by April 2003 they were ordered into Iraq, and to Iraq they went. The other choice was military jail, and I think we all have a pretty good idea now of what life is like for prisoners under US military guard.
So hubby left for Iraq, for a war he, and I, and his unit knew was total bullshit. And I was all alone with rabid rightwingnuts trying their best (they still are) to torment and terrorize me.
I kept posting my opinions, albeit on political boards, not the original board I'd been on for so many years & had made so many friends from. It wasn't fair for me to continue posting on that board and bring trouble onto everyone else.
Through my postings, I met up with Pat & Michael, who run the Iraq Coalition Casualty Count site; they asked would I help them with thier site, as well as post on their Luna blog. Of course I was very honored to do so, and have been doing so ever since.
With the ICC, it's very wearing. So many names of so many fallen soldiers, and every single one of those names passed through my hands, either by my reporting them to the site, or Pat or Michael reporting them to me. We also look hard for personal stories in the media about any of the fallen, so we can add a bit of the actual person to the name, and make their life and loss to the world something more than just a number.
My own husband was in Iraq. With every notice of death(s) a bit of me died a little inside, and life stopped until the military released info on what unit(s) were involved. No 4th ID deaths meant my husband's unit wasn't involved. 4th ID deaths but none in the Sunni Triangle area meant probably not my husband.
Then the names would be released and that was more reassurance that I still had a husband still alive.
It was a tremendous amount of guilt mixed with relief; my pure joy that the dead did not include my husband -this time- also brought me deep guilt that while I was rejoicing, other people, some I knew personally, were in despair, having been told they'd just lost their whole world.
And meanwhile, of course, I was still being stalked and threatened by this group of rabid rightwingnuts. It got so bad, and my being alone in a small town in Texas, no family close by, that I barricaded our front door. Sounds silly now, but remember the fog of war back then; the rightwingnuts' shrieking that I should be dragged through the streets of America, kicked and spat on until dead, wasn't something I was prepared to totally ignore.
I'd gone to several funerals. At one, the dead soldier's daddy broke down, crying "My baby! My baby boy!". The names of the dead just kept on pouring in; they still do. The number of wounded was in the thousands; brain dead, limbs gone, permanent nerve and brain damaged, blinded.
One Friday night, in November 2003, I was manning the newsfeeds for incoming deaths, when a notice came up on screen that 5 US soldiers from 4th ID had been killed in Baquoba when their TOC was mortared.
My hubby was 4th ID, stationed in Baquoba, and worked at the TOC (tactical command center). I knew he was supposed to be on duty at the TOC that night.
What I didn't know, for 3 days, were the names of those 5 soldiers killed.
For three of the longest days in my entire life, I sat on the floor of our home, despair washing over me like a tidal wave, my door barricaded, waiting to hear if my entire life was gone and over, as blasted forever into pieces as the bodies of the 5 soldiers. And if I were one of the lucky ones, if my husband wasn't one of the dead, then those we had personally known were.
My husband wasn't one of the dead that night, I found out the following Monday afternoon, when the 5 names were released. And he did make it back home safe and sound-ish.
I was lucky. My life wasn't over. My husband's life wasn't over. So many others have not been, and will not be, as lucky.
It's horrific and devastating when your loved one is killed, be it an automobile accident or a war, natural causes or not. But it's unforgivable when the accident is caused by a drunk driver. And it's unforgivable when the war is a pack of lies. Both are wrong, both cause senseless deaths. Both are, for me, unforgivable.
And that is why I despise bush and all the armchair warmongering rightwingnuts. What they've done, and continue to do, is simply unforgivable.
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