G
Guest
·This is an editorial that appeared in our newspaper today. For some reason it touched me.........
"The surreal conflict between the distant war and our separate peace was underscored Monday morning when ABC provided a brief update on the death of Pat Tillman, then promoted it's Wednesday showstopper, "Barbara Walters Presents the 10 Most Fascinating People of 2004."
For the sake of suspense, ABC is keeping a tight lid on the No. 1, but the promo gave us a taste of what intrigues Walters while 135,000 U.S. troops remain on the ground in Iraq, a country disintegrating into civil war.
"Daytime dynamo Oprah Winfrey." "Real estate mogul and reality star Donald Trump." "Heiress and actress Paris Hilton."
No, Pat Tillman did not make the list. Nor, I suspect, did Pfc. Lynndie England, the fun-loving clerk with the dog leash at Abu Bhraib; Kevin Sites, the free-lance cameraman who filmed the shooting of the wounded Iraqi in the mosque; Margaret Hassan, the CARE director who worked in Baghdad for 30 years before her kidnap and presumed murder; or the haunted parents of any of the 1,276 U.S. troops who have died in the war.
Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan in April. As the Washington Post noted in its investigation of that fratricide, Tillman - a defensive back for the Arizona Cardinals - gave up a lucrative contract and became "the Army's most famous volunteer."
Unlike Paris Hilton, Donald Trump or TV viewers still fascinated by what they have to say, Tillman had little interest in fame. He quit pro football and enlisted after Sept. 11, telling an interviewer, "My grandfather was at Pearl Harbor, and a lot of my family has gone and fought in wars. And I haven't really done a damn thing as far as laying myself on the line like that."
Most of us, including Walter's celebrities, know the feeling. Tillman decided he couldn't live with it. He joined the Army Rangers...and in one of those notorious twists of fate so common in war, he died at their hands.
Tillman's group became separated, with part on a ridge, the rest on the canyon floor. An explosion, possibly a land mine convinced the Rangers below they had stumbled into a Taliban ambush, so they opened fire on the shadows high on the canyon walls. Tillman and a dozen Rangers tried to signal they were friendlies, but the relentles barrage continued until Tillman uncorked a smoke grenade. "This stopped the friendly fire for a few moments," one Ranger told investigators. "We thought the battle was over, so we were relieved, getting up and stretching out, and talking with one another.
Another machine gun burst, and Tillman went down. The Ranger beside him said he kept shouting "I am Pat Tillman, Goddammit," over and over again until he died.
His voice, I imagine, was laced with rage and disbelief. I can only hope that it faded with pride.
Pat Tillman volunteered. This country, he decided, could not go to war without him.
Given the chance, you'd ask Patt Tillman and his brother, Kevin, who enlisted together, if they ever talked about how they'd deal with the next 50 years if only one of them came back. You'd ask Linndie England from where she summoned that smile as she stood in front of those naked Iraqui prisoners. You'd ask Margaret Hassan whether she still believes in the Iraq she served so gracefully.
And you'd ask those parents, any parents, how they live with the loss of a son or daughter who fought to preserve our freedom to obsess over Paris Hilton.
The truly unforgettable people of 2004 are unavailable to speak with Barbara Walters. We'll have to settle for her list of great pretenders."
"The surreal conflict between the distant war and our separate peace was underscored Monday morning when ABC provided a brief update on the death of Pat Tillman, then promoted it's Wednesday showstopper, "Barbara Walters Presents the 10 Most Fascinating People of 2004."
For the sake of suspense, ABC is keeping a tight lid on the No. 1, but the promo gave us a taste of what intrigues Walters while 135,000 U.S. troops remain on the ground in Iraq, a country disintegrating into civil war.
"Daytime dynamo Oprah Winfrey." "Real estate mogul and reality star Donald Trump." "Heiress and actress Paris Hilton."
No, Pat Tillman did not make the list. Nor, I suspect, did Pfc. Lynndie England, the fun-loving clerk with the dog leash at Abu Bhraib; Kevin Sites, the free-lance cameraman who filmed the shooting of the wounded Iraqi in the mosque; Margaret Hassan, the CARE director who worked in Baghdad for 30 years before her kidnap and presumed murder; or the haunted parents of any of the 1,276 U.S. troops who have died in the war.
Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan in April. As the Washington Post noted in its investigation of that fratricide, Tillman - a defensive back for the Arizona Cardinals - gave up a lucrative contract and became "the Army's most famous volunteer."
Unlike Paris Hilton, Donald Trump or TV viewers still fascinated by what they have to say, Tillman had little interest in fame. He quit pro football and enlisted after Sept. 11, telling an interviewer, "My grandfather was at Pearl Harbor, and a lot of my family has gone and fought in wars. And I haven't really done a damn thing as far as laying myself on the line like that."
Most of us, including Walter's celebrities, know the feeling. Tillman decided he couldn't live with it. He joined the Army Rangers...and in one of those notorious twists of fate so common in war, he died at their hands.
Tillman's group became separated, with part on a ridge, the rest on the canyon floor. An explosion, possibly a land mine convinced the Rangers below they had stumbled into a Taliban ambush, so they opened fire on the shadows high on the canyon walls. Tillman and a dozen Rangers tried to signal they were friendlies, but the relentles barrage continued until Tillman uncorked a smoke grenade. "This stopped the friendly fire for a few moments," one Ranger told investigators. "We thought the battle was over, so we were relieved, getting up and stretching out, and talking with one another.
Another machine gun burst, and Tillman went down. The Ranger beside him said he kept shouting "I am Pat Tillman, Goddammit," over and over again until he died.
His voice, I imagine, was laced with rage and disbelief. I can only hope that it faded with pride.
Pat Tillman volunteered. This country, he decided, could not go to war without him.
Given the chance, you'd ask Patt Tillman and his brother, Kevin, who enlisted together, if they ever talked about how they'd deal with the next 50 years if only one of them came back. You'd ask Linndie England from where she summoned that smile as she stood in front of those naked Iraqui prisoners. You'd ask Margaret Hassan whether she still believes in the Iraq she served so gracefully.
And you'd ask those parents, any parents, how they live with the loss of a son or daughter who fought to preserve our freedom to obsess over Paris Hilton.
The truly unforgettable people of 2004 are unavailable to speak with Barbara Walters. We'll have to settle for her list of great pretenders."
