Lou asks again:

> You didn't answer the question, as far as I'm concerned, Wirt. If your
>  intent was to (quite properly) remind us of the human cost of war, or
>  serving one's country in the armed forces, you could have introduced the
>  article that way. The letter quoted was wonderful and heart wrenching. It
>  truly humanized the price those who are serving now in the armed forces,
and
>  have served previously, from all countries and times, have paid doing their
>  duty. The inclusion of the quote and link at the end seemed to me to try to
>  politicize both the letter and this day of remembrance.

All war is political, and most often unnecessary. All war is terrible. If
you're going to remember the veterans of war, you first must remember what war
is. Don't glorify war or mythologize it. It's too important for trivial
sentimentalities or self-righteous justifications. On this Veteran's Day, it's good to
read Mark Twain again.

Outraged by American military intervention in the Philippines, Twain wrote
the following and sent it to Harper's Bazaar.  The women's magazine rejected it
for being too radical, and it wasn't published until after Twain's death, when
World War I made it even more timely. It appeared in Harper's Monthly,
November 1916:

=========================================

The War Prayer, March 1905
by Mark Twain

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in
arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism;
the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the
bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the
receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of
flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide
avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and
sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion
as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to
patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which
they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears
running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached
devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His
aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every
listener.

It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash
spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its
righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their
personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more
in that way.

Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the
front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces
alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering
momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe,
the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender!

Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored,
submerged in golden seas of glory!  With the volunteers sat their dear
ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends
who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor,
there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths.

The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read;
the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook
the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes
and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation

God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning
thy sword!

Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for
passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its
supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would
watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in
their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the
hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident,
invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them
and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory --

An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the
main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a
robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a
frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even
to ghastliness.

With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his
silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood
there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence,
continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words,
uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our
God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"

The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the
startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed
the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light;
then in a deep voice he said:

 "I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!"
The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he
gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd,
and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall
have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is
like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who
utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.

"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken
thought?  Is it one prayer?  No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not.
Both
have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and
the unspoken.  Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a
blessing upon yourself, beware!  Lest without intent you invoke a curse upon
a neighbor at the same time.  If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your
crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon
some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.

"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am
commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part
which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed
silently.  And ignorantly and unthinkingly?  God grant that it was so!

You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!'  That is
sufficient.  The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant
words. Elaborations were not necessary.

When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned
results which follow victory -- must follow it, cannot help but follow it.
Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer.
He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth
to battle -- be Thou near them!  With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth
from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe.

O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our
shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their
patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks
of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble
homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their
unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out
roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their
desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun
flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn
with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it
-- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their
lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water
their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their
wounded feet!

We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love,
and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore
beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.

(After a pause.) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak!  The
messenger of the Most High waits!"

It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was
no sense in what he said.

========================================

The current war was an elective war, one that was knowingly unnecessary, thus
making it an immoral war, if not outrightly illegal. Iraq posed no threat to
the United States nor its neighbors, Nonetheless, some real good may still
come of this war. The problem is that we've put ourselves on a knife's edge,
balanced precisely between perhaps being able to create a civil, liberal democracy
in a region that desperately needs one and the alternative of abandoning Iraq
to the catastrophe of a failed state.

Regardless of how we got to this point, we are now obliged to see this
through for the next ten to thirty years with as much generosity and grace as we can
muster. And if we do not, we will leave behind a second Chechnya or
Afghanistan, and that failure will shape the world's politics for the next half century.

Wirt Atmar

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