Nothing Personal

I always knew that when Alan joined the Army I would be hard pressed to keep my mouth shut about certain things. I suppose that must have slipped my mind lately under the influence of wine and fun, fast-paced conversation.

On Easter Alan and I went over to the Faulk’s place for dinner, having already politely declined their invitation to join them for church. Also joining us were Erica and Nathan, John, and Rachel and Austin. Rachel works with Charlee and apparently Austin only recently got out of the Army. They were wonderful to talk to – Austin is clearly quite intelligent and we actually ended up talking about physics and String Theory at one point. Admittedly, I don’t know much about it, but it was nice as a subject of conversation. Nathan and Erica have minds as twisted as ours, which made for a very entertaining night. And I love debating with John. Because even when he’s drunk as hell, he makes a lot of sense.

Then I went and jokingly commented on the fact that Kelby was saying "Calvary" when he meant "cavalry." It’s just a pet peeve of mine, mostly because it makes people sound dumb, even when I know that they aren’t, kind of like saying "noo-kyu-ler" instead of "nuclear." Well that didn’t set well with Kelby. I thought he got over it, but apparently not so much. Later on we were talking about morals and cultural differences and what crossed cultural boundaries. My argument was that taking another person’s life is immoral across most cultures because in order to take a life there has to be some kind of serious justification. Even then, most people are highly resistant to killing, even when it’s clearly a matter of saving themselves. I stated outright that I think the basic job of a soldier (killing other people) is morally wrong. Alan knows how I feel and John was happy to argue the point with me. Kelby, on the other hand, felt like I was attacking him personally, like I disapproved of the entire basis of his life. I qualify my point in saying that I think everyone has a right to defend their own lives, but that it’s better not to kill if you can avoid it.

I asked him "If you’re shooting at someone, does he have the right to defend himself even if it results in your death?"

"I guess."

"Well, if someone’s shooting at you, do you have the right to kill him to save yourself?"

"Definitely! Of course!"

Charlee tried to explain that he takes things too personally, that he has no real basis for his views other than how he feels so that when confronted with more reasoned opinions, he feel attacked… She actually took him into the other room and chewed him out about it. John and I just kept arguing and somehow got onto the subject of Japan in WWII, don’t ask me how. She was still ticked at him the next day and Kelby was still pouting. I wasn’t really annoyed until the morning, personally, but it hurts that I can’t even express an opinion without him acting like a scalded cat. I like to argue! And I felt awful that I might have jeopardized what I thought was a good friendship over me thinking (like so many people in the world) that killing is a bad thing.

I don’t have a problem changing my opinion when presented with better arguments and concrete facts, but in this case, I am the more educated one. Only 15-20% of soldiers in WWII ever fired their weapons, and weapons recovered from Civil War battlegrounds were frequently found double- , triple-, or even quadruple-loaded. In other words, soldiers loaded their weapons, never fired them, then re-loaded them to make it look like they had. One "battle" was even waged without a single shot being fired. The soldiers literally just yelled at each other until one side backed off. Since Korea, training methods have changed to better replicate battlefield scenarios. Now there’s a firing rate of about 95%. And PTSD, formerly "shell shock" and "battle fatigue," runs about 22% for veterans of modern wars, compared to about 8% in the general population. Doesn’t that mean something? People don’t want to kill people!

::sigh:: I guess Kelby’s had a couple days to recover, although Charlee tried to get him to apologize for being a drunk dickhead and he didn’t. I don’t know. He did invite us over for dinner Saturday, so perhaps it’s a peace offering. I’d prefer an apology, but I know how much I hate to admit I’m wrong, so maybe I should just pretend it never happened.

Monday I was upset enough for it to disrupt my mood. I could feel the depression and agitation building towards bedtime. Rather than risk another episode of hysterical crying and possible hallucinations, I took a double dose of Robitussin to knock me out. It worked, too, although I should probably just invest in some over-the-counter sleep aids.

In just over a week I’ll be getting on a plane for Connecticut. I’m looking forward to the cruise, of course, but I’m looking forward to seeing my friends even more. I want to visit Bright Horizons and hug all my kids, maybe go out for a drink with teachers. I’d also like to haunt Southern a little. Maybe mosey down D-Wing of Englemen and peer into the offices, see who’s around. I’m looking forward to seeing Zach too. I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. I haven’t talked to him in the longest time. It’ll be good to catch up… and see if maybe that stupid mohawk has grown out yet.

~Liz