06.02.04

The first thing I noticed, other than the heat, was the cicadas. I remembered hearing a blurb about it on the news, but it being so far away, I hadn�t given it much thought. They really were everywhere; providing my trip to D.C. with a soundtrack of constant buzzing in the background. They were even inside the lobby of the hotel.

Each day when we were through with our meetings, I took the Metro out to explore; the National Mall, Union Square. It was my first real exposure to public transportation. Why don�t we have one of these in L.A. again?

I have to admit, even though I had been there before, my favorite place was still out by the Capitol. They were setting up for the big Memorial Day celebration and the WWII monument dedication. I had forgotten about that. There were war-era posters up and rows of chairs in preparation for the crowds of veterans and their families. I saw them as I wandered through the museums. Most of them wore caps with the name of their companies and where they had fought on them, but you could pretty much assume that anyone who looked older than seventy was a veteran. The Museum of American History, Air and Space Museum, the Holocaust Museum; everywhere I went there were men and women who had actually lived the events that I was reading about. I could hear them telling stories to their children and grandchildren as they passed by. They were so young when all that happened. So proud and sure they were in the right.

It was such a different time.

Washington always makes me feel so patriotic. How can you stand in the Lincoln Memorial reading those words and not believe that this country is something special? Not perfect. Never perfect. But so damn idealistic it can be ridiculous.

Of course, there is a fine line between idealism and self-righteousness. We�ve always had that line to walk.

At the actual Memorial is where I got emotional. Men who look like my grandfather wiping tears from their eyes. Who knows what memories they are replaying in their minds. They have gone places I can�t comprehend. My thoughts, of course, then turned to their modern-day counterparts.

My feelings surrounding them shouldn�t be any different, but in a way, they are. Not only for the soldiers themselves, though, but for the entire nation as a whole.

During the WWII era, we were all so sure we were doing the right thing. The troops had an entire nation supporting them back home. Women were going without nylons, families without sugar and meat. We conserved and sacrificed for the good of the nation. Now we complain if the evening news interrupts our reality TV. The price of gas is more of a concern than the fact that young Americans are dying. What a difference.

I know it�s different, though. The enemy back then was so apparent and such a clear-cut target. We joined the entire free world in the fight. It is just too bad our soldiers today can�t have that same peace of mind. That same absolute support.

This new war--and believe me when I say there is one--isn�t being fought only in Iraq (if it ever really was). It is here where I sit, and where you are and, you too. And we Americans, with World War II as our ideal and our rules of engagement, don�t quite know what to do with it yet.

We want it to be like it was. We want our wars to have a beginning and an end--dates we can etch in granite onto monuments. We want an enemy who clearly justifies our actions. One we can track and contain and whose line of thinking we can follow.

We want our soldiers to mirror their WWII counterparts. In a way, these men and women set the standard. We want our soldiers to fight with honor and dedication in the face of fear and overwhelming odds. And we want them to win.

Unfortunately, this time, the word �win� is so subjective.

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