Pity the poor soldier
There will be no British heroes in Iraq.
There will be no triumphal parades. There will be no victory celebrations. The war will never end for there is no definable end point.
How did we get there in the first place? Entirely on the whim of the Prime Minister. Those who are not students of British Constitution may have little understanding of the unfettered powers of Royal Prerogative that, in terms of military action at least, are little changed since the days of Henry VII. Except for one thing. The powers are now enjoyed and exercised on behalf of the monarch by the Prime Minister.
Blair took our forces into Iraq, on the coat tails of Bush and Rumsfeld, for reasons that defy rational analysis. Let's not even bother with the WMD charade. Absurdly misdirected “revenge” for 9/11? Maybe. Oil, of course, is never out of the equation.
I suspect however that, deep down, both Blair and Bush were satisfying an atavistic need to emulate the Crusades against the "infidel". The Islamic world saw the Crusades as cruel and savage onslaughts by European Christians, and the Pan-Islamism movement continues to call Western involvement in the Middle East a "crusade". You may not agree, but look at the graph below which breaks down the deaths caused by the current hostilities.
No one laments the demise of Saddam Hussein. Nor would we lament the overthrow of Robert Mugawbe, Kim Jong-il or the Burmese Junta but we will not be invading any of those countries, however repugnant we find their regimes. I wish I could say the same about Iran.
Pity the poor soldier, for there will be no heroes in Iraq.
I have several patients who have served in Iraq. One, who I will call David, was a paratrooper. He was a career soldier. He was blown up when the vehicle in which he was travelling went over a land mine. He has a vague memory of flying up in the air, but nothing else. He sustained horrific injuries to one leg. The medical care he received from the army was first rate. He lost count of the number of operations. Finally, he was honourable discharged from the Army. He is no longer “able bodied” or not in terms of being a paratrooper. He cannot play rugby. He can and does play squash. He is, of course, lucky to be alive. He knows that. And yet, his chosen career has gone. Does he keep in touch with Army friends? Not really. Paratroopers are not very good with injured ex-colleagues. He has met some of them for a pint a couple of times, but he feels uncomfortable, almost ashamed.
Pity the poor soldier who fights in an unpopular war.
The general public's reaction to injured ex-service men from Iraq is one of embarrassment. As for Afghanistan, well, it gives a whole new meaning to the expression “a far away country of which we know nothing.” How many British teenagers could place Afghanistan on a map and then write 100 words on the Mujahideen and the Taliban?
Gordon Brown is pulling the troops out of Iraq. But there will be no announcement. They will creep home surreptitiously, in dribs and drabs. There will be no welcome parade for them, and precious little thanks. Think of the appalling Nimbys of Gray’s Lane, Ashtead, in leafy-laned Surrey. They will be first in the queue to buy a Poppy in November, but they fought tooth and nail to prevent the Army using a house on their precious road for convalescing soldiers (see Proud to be British)
Soldiers have always had a difficult time adapting to civilian life. Second only to the mentally ill, they form a disproportionately large part of the down-and-out population.
Ex-servicemen should have fast track access to all that the NHS has to offer. Specifically and particularly, they need access to specialised rehabilitation services, both physical and psychological. At present, once they have left the Army, there is nothing.
I am ashamed at how little I have to offer them.
Labels: Iraq, Saddam Hussein, soldiers, Tony Blair
Donald Rumsfeld thanks British soldiers
Henry VII 1485-1509
The Crusaders
"Collateral Damage"








