I wrote this in Nov. 2004 as a diary entry. Still works.

Der Truppen- the Troops

We have something to love once again. Those are the troops. Our beloved sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, husbands and wifes. Those man and women in uniform who perform so perfectly under fire and expanded our democracy and freedoms beyond our realms. Heil to the troops. The American flag is waving over the heroes, the Eastern Wind blows at the faces of the cameraden and Gott Mitt Unst whenever we go and whatever we do. His Majesty the Army of One, the soldierperson is a dominating figure in our shows. The generals are again wise strategic thinkers, the military secretaries are careful, all-inclusive and patriotic, the Commander in Chief possesses the God's wisdom and the public is ready to make babies. Long live the War, Death and eternal Peace of our cemeteries.

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The troops. Der truppen in German. This German word infiltrated itself into many other languages. Then the funny thing happened. Somehow in Russian language it took another meaning. It means the Dead. There is even a famous play "Zhivoi Trup", that is A Living Dead, describing a man, who orchestrated his artificial death.
Russians are maybe not the most sympathetic people, but they are victims of many wars. That is they can be good judges of the cost. And as such they have chosen to use this word directly for what it is: the people marked for Death.
Let's face it. In the capitalistic society there are occupations necessary, but not productive. The military is one of them. We have to keep the military because of the necessity of protection from the external enemies. At the same time we cannot afford a draft because it proved itself fiscally irresponsible. Thus we announce the Army as a government job and are ready to pay and throw in the benefits and other incentives for the mercenaries to join the force. This is called a professional Army.
Not that it is something new. Such armies existed in the medieval Italy and before that even in the ancient Cartage. In fact, after the First Punic War the mercenaries rebelled and Cartagenians had to crush them. That didn't save them from the Romans, who, citing the usage of the WMDs of that time by the Cartagenians, arranged for the Punic War 2 and Punic War 3 until the Cartage was totally destroyed.
I am sorry for the usage of such uncomfortable wording, but the soldiers in the professional armies are mercenaries; they serve for money. It is just a job. A dirty job, an uncomfortable job, a dangerous job, but just a job. It is not an obligation, neither it is a sacred duty. These people sign a contract and when they are through and still alive, they reap the harvest. That's simple. As it is a job, they work for us. We pick the tab. They are our tool, our machine, our screwdriver, our hammer, our drill. We must maintain them but we don't have to love them. Not a bit. Nothing personal.
The tool has to be taken care of. We have to lubricate it, store it in the dry place, inspect it from time to time. We should not use it inappropriately, dismantle it when it works, let the children use it or give it to others indiscriminately. That's what we have to do. Do we really do that?
Our Army is not ours anymore. We gave is indiscriminately to the Children of the Neocorn. They use it for their own private purposes, abuse it, endanger it, tarnish its image and make irreparable damages. We don't care. Instead of protecting us from the enemy our soldiers attack other people. We don't give a damn. Instead of enjoying the benefits our veterans suffer from all kinds of illnesses associated with the way they were abused in the Army. We couldn't care less. Women in the Army are mistreated on a regular basis. We just turn off the TV.. Our mighty mercenaries go to other countries where people never heard of us and kill those people. When those people resist, our mercenaries kill even more. Thus other people, the whole mankind identify us as a primary world problem. They hate us. We laugh our asses off.
And then they come back in coffins, der truppen, the troops, the Dead, the corpses and we love them. Love is cheap. We have plenty of it.
God, save our souls, because we've sinned. That sin is called hypocrisy and it is a deadly sin. There is no absolution because whoever sins against the common sense is doomed.
There is only one chance. If we acknowledge that our love is actually the cover-up for guilt and shame, maybe, just maybe God will come back to us in reality. Right now God is in the brig and the Devil is in charge. We better see that.

by Mark Sashine (53 articles, 19 quicklinks, 250 diaries, 3574 comments) on Tuesday, February 20, 2007 at 1:10:17 PM