this diary is dedicated to all who suffer because of war and other disasters
we honor courage in all its forms
we love and support our troops, just as we love and support the Iraqi people – without exception, or precondition, or judgement.
cross-posted at DailyKos, Booman Tribune, European Tribune, My Left Wing, and TexasKos.
image and poem below the fold
Iraqi hospital employees wheel a dead civilian into the morgue of a local hospital in the restive city of Baquba, northeast of Baghdad. US and Iraqi forces were surrounding the Sunni rebel bastion of Ramadi with new checkpoints on all the town’s entry and exit roads as Al-Qaeda said it carried out Baghdad bombings that killed 36 people.
(AFP/Ali Yussef)
The Helmet
by A. F. Moritz
The greatest twentieth-century work of art is not a poem or
a painting
but the steel helmet: so said some Nazi curator. And indeed the
German helmet
from World War II that I own does satisfy our obsession with
elegant design.
Its lines and volumes, simple yet intricate, and the way light
passes over it
as if it were a planet while the skull-hole is filled with
darkness: these
fulfil design’s one great promise or perception, that a thought,
even a life,
can express itself with beautiful inexplicitness, and there truly is
paradise:
the heaven of dynamic patterns and self-cancelled phrases where
all are equal.
Here is the example, unique for each who confronts it, of a mass-
produced,
ineffable and unsayable impression. Democracy, art for all. Who
has not seen
these helmets? Millions owned them. Tens of thousands took
them from the dead.
This one, for instance, I have from a relative, who received it from
a friend,
a Berber, one of the Free French, assigned with the Americans,
who taught him
the tools and techniques of modern war. But this man also loved
traditional means.
At night he used to take a serrated bayonet and pass through the
lines. In the darkness
nothing could be seen, so he felt for helmets: rough ones meant
the American army,
and he went farther. Smooth ones: he was among Germans and
started cutting throats.
This additional work he did for the pleasure of danger and skill,
hatred of the enemy,
and love of his foreign friends. A stoical man, with outbursts of
frantic exalted delight,
he went home after the war to a strict life in the desert south of
Marrakesh.
Now I’ve turned his helmet over on its back like a small-boy-
tortured turtle,
and I use it to plant flowers in: those shade-lovers I always call
“patience”
when I know impatiens is their name.
– – –
Horror show reveals Iraq’s descent by Hala Jaber, from the Sunday Times of London, via James Wolcott:
The single-storey Al-Tub al-Adli morgue, whose nondescript appearance belies the horrors within, has become synonymous with the seemingly unstoppable violence that has turned Baghdad into the most frightening city on earth.
It is here that bodies from the nightly slaughter are dumped each morning. The stench of decaying flesh, mingled with disinfectant, hits you at the checkpoint 100 yards away.
Each corpse tells a different story about the terrors of Iraq. Some bodies are pocked with holes inflicted by torturers with power drills. Some show signs of strangulation; others, with hands tied behind the back, bear bullet wounds. Many are charred and dismembered.
So far this year, according to health ministry figures, the mortuary has processed the bodies of about 6,000 people, most of whom died violently. Some were killed in American military action but many more were the victims of the sectarian violence that US and Iraqi forces are struggling to contain…
It receives 20 to 30 bodies on a quiet day. Last month it processed a record 1,384. Most autopsies have been cancelled; there are simply not enough doctors or officials to cope.
For Iraqis who suffer the loss of a family member, a dreaded ritual ensues. Everyone knows there is no point in reporting a missing person to the police — no action will be taken. The first stop is always the morgue. The lucky ones find a body straight away. For others, the morning walk past the coffins has to be repeated. Their search can last for days.
As a former trauma specialist in a hospital casualty department, Dr Baker Siddique, 29, thought he was inured to scenes of carnage. But nothing he had witnessed prepared him for a visit to a pathologist friend working at the mortuary.
“I saw a street packed with people and coffins standing up vertically,” he said. “There wasn’t enough room to lie them horizontally.”
– – –
join CIVIC’s “I Care” photo campaign
support Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America
support a young heart with an old soul peace takes courage (multimedia)
put a meaningful magnet on your car or metal filing cabinet
read Ilona’s important blog – PTSD Combat
poetry matters poets against war
view the pbs newshour silent honor roll (with thanks to jimstaro at booman.)
take a private moment to light one candle among many (with thanks to TXSharon)
support Veterans for Peace
support the Iraqi people
support the Campaign for Innocent Victims in Conflict (CIVIC)
support CARE
support the victims of torture
remember the fallen
support Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors – TAPS
support Gold Star Families for Peace
support the fallen
support the troops
support Iraq Veterans Against the War
support Military families Speak Out
support the troops and the Iraqi people
read This is what John Kerry did today, the diary by lawnorder that prompted this series
read Riverbend’s Bagdhad Burning
read Dahr Jamail’s Iraq Dispatches
read Today in Iraq
witness every day
While speaking at the YearlyKos 2006 Convention in Los Vegas, former Virginia Governor Mark Warner said (and I paraphrase from memory): “George Bush, incompetent idiot, blah blah blah, went to war in Iraq when the real threat is in Iran.” (my emphasis)
There was a brief pause after his statement, and I regret that I wasn’t brave or quick-witted enough to yell “Bullshit!” into the silence. But the moment passed, Warner picked up his next thread in perfect cadence, and I bit into my box lunch apple.
So now what?
I’m gonna let him know that I think his statement is bullshit, and why. I’m starting here. If anyone knows of other ways, please put them in this thread.
Thanks.
