Showing posts with label Afghanistan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Afghanistan. Show all posts

Saturday, 25 April 2015

ANZAC Day

On this ANZAC Day, let us not forget the horror of war and let us abandon the talk of glory, sacrifice and heroes. Let us abandon the myth that death and mangled bodies, lost lives and fractured families is the foundation on which our country was born. A country born in blood needs blood to continue to give it meaning, the blood of soldiers, refugees and the indigenous.

It is time to get real and find a new reason for our being or we will continue to need war and blood as a sacrifice for our sins.

Emotional Event
(War In Afghanistan 2)

(A reflection on the dehumanised nature of the modern video war where people do not exist as victims but only as collateral damage)

I read in the paper
just a couple of innocuous lines
planted almost hidden
camouflaged amongst a battalion of words
the following

“… the 2000 pound bomb that went astray would cause ‘ a significant emotional  event’ for any one within a square mile…”

then it all became clear to me
war is not about death
people do not die in war
they only suffer emotional events
collateral damage
insignificant
unnoticed
not even counted as a statistics
they were not even there
like the poor
victims of the Great Fire of London
on the illegal immigrants
on September 11
not dead
not included
forgotten
ignored
somehow responsible for their own misery
yes death is a significant emotional event
for all human beings
especially when hit by a
rogue
wayward
homeless

2000 pound bomb

Tuesday, 13 July 2010

Another Australian soldier dies in Afghanistan

Another Australian soldier dies in Afghanistan
Jane Bardon reported this story on Saturday, July 10, 2010 08:26:00


I was there the day Benny went to war
over there
I wasn’t sure where over there was
or what we were fighting for
I doubt that Benny knew either
yet they said go so go he did
saying little more than see ya mate
full of nervous energy like a grand final footballer
on the first Saturday in September.

Benny was the scrawny kid in grade 3
I was new to the school he was my class buddy
sharing a lifetime of moments
we tackled growing up together
I laid awake at night imagining him
over there
dodging danger in the same irrepressible way
marking our progress by where we were
on the first Saturday in September.

Got a couple of emails from him
from over there
Never said much suppose he couldn’t
Except it was dusty and dirty
and the locals were unfriendly
reading between the lines
it was no church picnic
he hinted he couldn’t wait to be home
sometime before the first Saturday in September.

I was there the day Benny came home
from over there
The band played all solemn like
as the plane rolled to a halt
we all stood still lost in our memories
As the flag-draped coffin was lowered down
and slow marched to the waiting hearse
somebody spoke of heroes and bravery and the Anzac spirit
And Benny’s mum cried for all of us
sometime before the first Saturday in September.

Glenn Loughrey July 2010