Five years

A couple of days ago was the fifth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq.

I remember watching the situation unfold on tv comparing it to images and reporting in the first Gulf War. The contrast was amazing, the impact of embedded reporters, my greater knowledge of the region (I'd taken a course of territorial disputes the previous year in amongst the other Asia and Africa centred course of my degree). In the first gulf war the son of the village librarian served in the army and wrote letters back to his old primary school which were read out in assembly. It provided an interesting insight to a 10 year old. Compared to a 22 year old at a college which was the centre of the student stop the war movement (people slept in college nights before big marches). I knew it was inevitable but wished there was another way. In the back of my mind was that if it turned into another Vietnam quickly my american male friends were liable for the draft. I knew really that it wouldn't happen, and that if it would they would escape it like their fathers and uncles had (enter seminary, rabbi school, medical school abroad) but it was scary. My feelings about whether the war was and is justified are very separate from my concern for people are serving in theatre and their families, who deserve our support and respect no matter what our morals say about the situation.