couple things, first I agree with 240's idea of pulling out of the city, but what do we care what the rest of the world thinks. Second, as bad as it sounds 3,000 deats in 5 years isn't bad, we lost that many an hour in WWII, but America was unitd and supportive. Believe me I'm not some gun toting rambo type. I'm a heavy equipment operator. As far as Vietnam vets, I do feel different for them. Not all of them had a choice. Today we all choose to fight for our country. I am willing to bet that a majority of the ones that lost their life are proud they did.
No they are not and I bet my own life on this: If you could take one of these Guys and Girls back from were ever they are (or not are), and ask them if it was worth it... worth to die young... not even having the chance to experience "real" love marriage kids buying a house AND experience the pleasure of getting old (getting older is not all about cancer sickness and so forth) I'll bet you they would gladly change history and live their rest of the life's in Canada. (I'm talking about the once who obviously are young enough to fill that criteria)
There is a massive difference between being unfortunate enough to get hit by a bus by the age of 20 and never experience the things I have mentioned above and somebody who obviously choose to serve but still has been place in an unnatural government created situation to die in the dirt wondering what the hell has hit him and why he cannot feel his legs anymore while he tries desperately to stay awake.
I have served to (not in the US army) and I have seen "combat" in the Balkans (I still don't call it combat and more us playing referee in a game of kill or be killed) I have talked to Soldiers of "our" side and of the other side who were on the brink of death, and all of them said it's not fucking worth it, you just simply know that when it is time to go and than it is unfortunately to late.
My Grandad who fought German side in WW2 told me once a story (the older I got the more the stories became real and serious, when we were small he would only tell us funny stories, later his when we were old enough he told us what it really was back in the days)
He told me that they got bombed by the US Airplanes and when it was over he notice between all the chaos one guy he briefly talked to past days, he was lying on the floor holding his guts, my granddad walked over kneed down and talked to the man, and the following was happening:
(He swear this is true) a short time before the guy died he was kind real still like he was thinking than he looked at my granddad laughed and looked at him and said that the answer was so simple, than he died.
Scary shit.
