Meet Nathan Elrod: He's 20. How about Clifford Collinsworth? He's 20. We also present to you Nathaniel Aguirre: He's 21. You're probably jealous of him; he can go out to bars now. Or, rather, he could.
When all we Tufts students were heading out for our weekend revelry on Friday night, these guys were fighting for the United States in Iraq. And by the time we were cramming for Tuesday's midterms this past Monday night, they were all dead - and so were six more of our peers: soldiers between the ages of 20 and 23.
Last weekend was a particularly deadly one for the United States in Iraq. The U.S. death toll is creeping toward 3,000, hitting 2,809 as of Monday. And more than 800 so far have been of college age.
One particularly important difference in activism levels between Iraq and Vietnam: this time, no draft. President Bush asked America to give up very little. Taxes were cut, draft-happy army recruiters were told to calm themselves, and the administration committed itself to fighting this $340 billion fiasco on the cheap. Aging hippies sadly put away their signs and drove their Volkswagen buses back into storage, visibly deflated after the president snatched another great fight from their grasp.
Back during the Vietnam War, the constant worry that you (yes, YOU!) could be plucked from your cozy hometown and sent thousands of miles away to fight your government's enemy brought millions of Americans to their feet and to the streets in protest. As activists burned draft cards and refused to shower, the rest of the United States was forced to take them seriously (if only because the smell was becoming unbearable).
Today, there is no such worry. We do not feel the fear of our parents' generation; there is a much lesser sense of immediacy. Yes, we want the war to end. But not because we want it to end before WE are chosen to go. The personal aspect has largely evaporated; while some of us have family and friends fighting overseas, most of us do not fear being forced to join them.
Yet, it is important that we recapture this personal identification. The bottom line is that we do care, and we should care. Not simply on an intellectual level, which is the level at which we at Tufts are wont to care about most things. We should care about the history that is unfolding and the events that are occurring in a deeply personal way. When 800 people who could be sitting next to us in biology under another set of circumstances are killed, our generation needs to sit up and take notice.
We at Tufts, and in the context of a greater America, were promised a quick, cheap, positive military campaign. Three years and $340 billion later, the kid who wanted to work in oncology is sitting in a medical tent holding his buddy's face together. If that's not a reason to care, what is?
Whether you are for or against the war, don't act on your opinion without considering a walk in the combat boots of your peers. So write blogs, organize street protests and contact your representatives. They have heard it before, but it wouldn't hurt for them to hear it again. This personal connection is important.
Even if we have forgotten why we are there, remember who is fighting.
