I set out to be a writer,
Not a soldier.
My dad felt that way in 1944,
When he was a radio officer
Doing technical communications work
That was at once beneath him and beyond him,
“For the duration.”
I feel the same way, writing “on communication,”
During these times in America.
Only my technical skills are needed (though not much valued).
My moral judgment is an unneeded hindrance here,
“For the duration.”
When I shoot, I either draw fire
Or cause the other guys to dig in deeper.
When I don’t shoot, I should be
Court marshaled, for cowardice.
Well, that’s war for you.
The other day in a trench I got frustrated
With a fellow soldier who wondered boringly
Why conservatives “don’t vote their interests.”
I said, “You pride yourself on voting against your interests
(paying higher taxes, for ostensibly noble reasons). Why shouldn’t they?”
“I’ve never thought of that before,” he said with a look of shock
That I returned, realizing it was the first time I had communicated something
In about two years.
And enemy soldiers? “Communication” with them
Feels like those stories from the First World War,
The soldiers calling a Christmas truce,
And singing Silent Night
Across no man’s land.
“No man’s land” seems more like “every man’s land” these days David. We’re all trudging through the unknown, often unanticipated and even unimaginable and it’s up to communicative leaders to part the skies and let the sunshine in whenever we can.
Parting the skies is a tall order, for a soldier, KH—or even a general. But if anyone does it in and around our world—and has over many years—it is you.