The Ultimate Sacrifice

I often wonder what the families of those who've died in battle make of the criticisms of this battle.

Criticisms that after little more than a week, it's a lot more than a disappointment. That while coalition forces control 90 percent of the airspace in that country, we are having a tough time in that country. And that though we are winning the ground war, we are losing the public relations war.

I wonder what those who are now planning funerals think of those who are now questioning policy.

Does it make their sons any less heroes? No.

Does it make them any less gallant? No.

Does it make them any less brave, or selfless, determined, or patriotic? No, no, no and no.

What message do we send to the families who have suffered so much when we question whether they suffer in vain?

Those who oppose this war say it's their very dissent that troops defend half a world away. They're right on concept, but they're wrong on point.

Our men and women don't need people burning flags. They do need people writing them letters.

Our bravest don't need people shouting obscenities at war. They do need a few kind words now-and-then shouted at them.

Our heroes didn't create the misery we're seeing in Iraq. They're trying to end it.

They didn't create human shields. They're trying to stop the people who use them.

They didn't create the poverty and abuse we're all seeing now. They're trying to correct it.

We are right to question war. But we must be careful never to make it look like we're questioning them. We owe them at least that much. And we owe the families that survive them that much more.

After all, they're the ones staring at funerals now -- not us. They're the ones staring at kids left without dads and wives without husbands. They're the ones looking at one less plate setting at Thanksgiving this year. And one less happy face on Christmas morning every year from now on. They're the ones really suffering. Left with little more than pictures and memories of lives so special. So young, so promising and now, so gone.

We like to complain in this country. Maybe we should remember the faces of those who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we can.

I'm not fit to judge them. But I'll be damned if I let my colleagues forget them.

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