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<UID>
9002150395
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
901202
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, December 02, 1990
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
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<ILLUSTRATION>

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<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

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<MEMO>

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<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1990, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
HAVE WE FORGOTTEN THE REALITY OF WAR?
</HEADLINE>
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<BODY>
A few years ago, I met a great guy.  He was warm and good-natured. He
told funny stories. We hit it off immediately, which was good, since he was
going to marry my sister.

  And since the wedding,  they have been blissfully happy. They gave the
family a baby this year, a little boy. Last week, at Thanksgiving, we made
fools of ourselves gurgling in baby talk.

  Normally, I would not worry about  this man, my brother-in- law, except
that he is part of the military. Having spent 10 years as a Navy fighter
pilot, he is now a high-ranking officer in the reserves. If the situation in
the Persian Gulf gets any worse, he will be called upon to do that which every
family dreads: kiss us good-bye and go off to war.
  At least we used to dread it. I'm not so sure anymore. On Thursday, the
United Nations  gave its blessing to the use of American force, should Iraq
fail to clear out of Kuwait by mid- January. It was, simply put, license to
kill. And suddenly, there is this feeling of impatience, of people  itching to
pull a war trigger.
  On a national radio program Friday afternoon, Americans were interviewed
across the country, a man-on-the-street thing. Their responses were startling:
"I think we  should get in there and do what we came there to do." . . . "We
shouldn't leave our boys sitting in the desert. Let 'em fight." . . . "Saddam
Hussein is a madman and has to be stopped. If lives are lost,  it's worth
it."
 Know what the fight is for 
  Isn't it funny? Not long ago, even the mention of war sent nausea through
the American psyche. Vietnam boiled in our blood. We were not lifting a rifle.
 We would fight no more forever. 
  But slowly, things have changed. The unthinkable has become thinkable
again. First, Ronald Reagan had his little exercise in Grenada, where war --
and victory --  was once again tasted and, by some, even rolled on the tongue
and enjoyed. Now our troops pile into the Saudi desert, hundreds of thousands
of innocent young men and women, and where is the horror? We  are like a boxer
whose head has cleared, we are standing again, curling our gloves and saying
"Come on, come on."
  But for what? I still can't find anyone who is 100 percent clear on our
intentions  in the Middle East. Are we there to a) save Kuwait? b) protect
Saudi Arabia? c) murder Saddam Hussein? d) nip a nuclear threat? e) keep the
oil companies in big profits?
  If there was any lesson from  Vietnam, it seemed to be this: First, learn
what you're fighting for. Be skeptical of political speeches. Yet today, we
hear the rantings of Hussein, a despicable figure, and we hear the promises of
 President Bush -- "We will not be intimidated" -- we see gas prices going up
and our troops in the desert and suddenly, we are agitated, impatient, we act
as if this is a sporting event where the time-out  is taking too long. Hey,
we're ready. Give us the ball. Let's rumble.
  But this is not sports. This is not a game. These are real bullets that
leave men  bent and paralyzed. Real grenades that sizzle  flesh and split
limbs from the torso. This is not Grenada, nor the Falkland Islands. This
could be a war that drags on and on, with reports every night on someone's
brother, someone's father, someone's  son, lying in a heap with blood
trickling from his mouth.
  Where is our horror?
 Jumping the gun 
  Now, understand. There are certainly times when we have no choice but to
lift a weapon. To me,  that comes when our very lives are threatened, when our
homes and families are in mortal danger.
  Is that the case right now? Hussein is a cold-blooded dictator, but he has
been for years, and we  never stepped in until he turned his wrath on an
oil-rich nation. People rumble about his rush to develop a nuclear weapon --
but, to be brutally frank, Hussein would not be the only one with nuclear
weapons.
  So what is this about? Big business? Political power? How come the world is
condemning Iraq, but it is mostly Americans sitting in the desert? Are we too
impatient to wait for the effects  of economic sanctions -- the isolation of
Iraq from food, supplies, outside income?
  Or is it like that line from the movie "Reds," in which an old woman says,
"Men like war. If they didn't, they  would have stopped it a long time ago."
  I, too, hate Hussein. I, too, hate the oil powers that make it so
expensive even to heat a home. I feel furious at this stalemate, as if someone
is poking  me in the chest and I can't respond. But then I think about my
sister without a husband, or my baby nephew without a father. And I remember
something: This is still war we're talking about. And the first  rule of war
is that young men die.
  Are we really in that much of a hurry?
 
  Mitch Albom's columns appear regularly in the Detroit Free Press sports
section.
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