Mickey Z

Cool Observer

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Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Ex-Marine: "I forfeited my honor, my self-respect, and my humanity"

As you might remember, an article of mine called “Re-Reading the Pentagon Papers” made the rounds this past June.

Read article here: http://tinyurl.com/77p2s.

In that piece, I quoted a wounded marine-turned-author, W.D. Ehrhart, who wrote in his memoir, Passing Time: Memoir of a Vietnam Veteran Against the War, about reading the Pentagon Papers: “Page after page endless page of it. Vile. Immoral. Despicable. Obscene...I’d been a fool, ignorant and naive. A sucker. For such men, I had become a murderer. For such men, I had forfeited my honor, my self-respect, and my humanity. For such men, I had been willing to lay down my life.”

(http://www.wdehrhart.com)

Well, a few days ago, I got an e-mail from none other than Bill Ehrhart, in which he wrote: “I was surfing the net this morning, and I came upon your article ‘The Pentagon Papers: 34 Years Later.’ In that article, you quote my reaction to reading the Pentagon Papers as recorded in my book Passing Time. Your web address was listed at the end of the article, so I went there and checked it out. I totally love the imagine of the Marines raising the Golden Arches (MZ: See my post on Friday, November 25, 2005). I myself am an ex-Marine who came to despise the Vietnam War and the people who sent us to fight it. I am no happier with this present war.”

Another connection made possible thanks to the Web.

(To read Ehrhart’s poem, “Guns,” click on “more” at the end of this post.)

For now, here’s another look at the price of war:

(more photos here: http://tinyurl.com/8xz8)

In related news:
Iraqi hospitals under siege
http://tinyurl.com/dm2ks

Related...in an indirect way:
What does a multi-millionaire defense contractor do for his daughter’s bat mitzvah?

Hint: Fitty was in the house…
Story here: http://tinyurl.com/8dmrf

Get rich...while others are dying

+++

Unrelated...in any way:

Put down your pens...

Tonight marks the end of National Novel Writing Month. I did my damnedest to patch together 50,000 words so I could technically “win.” It’s silly of me, for sure, but this has been an insane year and I cherish the opportunity to see something through. Something over which I alone had control. As a result, I have myself an experimental novel (sic) that—after some edits—I just might shop around.