[lit-ideas] War is a cold business












The familiar hard voice came through the headphones, overriding everything 
else.  "Helmut, get your ass out here!  On the double!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

The
colonel was sitting in his usual rocking chair on the porch of the old
beach house they'd converted into command central.  The sun was setting
over the Pacific.  It might have seemed summery, if one were naive enough not 
to realize the sun was setting much further south than it would in the summer.  
Helmut wasn't so naive.  He wasn't fooled.  The slap of mid-winter cold air as 
he
stepped outside confirmed it for him.  It was a winter sunset.

"Helmut,
sit down here," the colonel barked, brisk as the cold air he liked to
sit in.  With his right hand he gestured to the other rocking chair,
empty beside him.  With his left, he pushed aside the array of flat
panel touch screens with which he monitored operations while
watching the sunset.  He looked a lot like an aging Robert
Mitchum, but had the kind of bark to his voice that made George C.
Scott so convincing as a tough military commander.

"Helmut, how long have you been with this operation?"

"Oh, I don't know, sir.  Several years."

"Several
years.  Several years."  The colonel took the unlit cigar from his
face, turned to Helmut and yelled, "Well how many years does it take for
you to get it right, Helmut?"

"I don't know sir; sorry sir; what did I get wrong, sir?"

"Helmut, the first problem is you don't even know."

"Sir, no sir."

The colonel sat staring at Helmut.  "You don't have a clue, do you?"

"No sir."

"What is our mission here, Helmut?"

"To protect the homeland, sir."

"And what do we need to do to protect the homeland, Helmut?"

"We need to get the liberals to organize, sir, like the Marines do, sir."

"And why is that, Helmut?"

"Sir, because if they can't get organized they'll never be able to lead the 
country, sir."

"And why do they need to lead the country, Helmut?"

"Sir, because they stand for everything that makes this country great, sir."

"Good, Helmut.  So far so good.  Now what's your job, Helmut?"

"My job, sir, is to play the role of pompous retired military guy who reads up 
on all the military exploits in the world."

"And why would we want someone to play that role?"

"To scare the liberals."

"And why would some pompous old military guy scare the liberals?"

"Well
sir, as I understand it, they're supposed to think that maybe I'm
actually explaining how the people in Washington really think.  Like
maybe I'm actually feeding ammo to the right wing politicians."

The colonel
stuck the damp, chewed end of his cigar back in his mouth, turned to the sunset 
and let his
rocker tip back.  "Yes," he said, a grin starting to form around the
cold stogy.  "We want them to think of Sterling Hayden as Colonel
Jack D. Ripper -- 'feed me, Mandrake, feed me.'  Great movie."

Suddenly
he jerked back up, rocked forward, planted his feet squarely on the
ground and scraped his rocker around.  Now the features of his face were almost 
invisible to Helmut, silhouetted against the orange sunset's
splendor.  "But why, Helmut?  Why would it matter if they thought that?"

"Because, sir, well, sir, I guess I'm not entirely clear, sir.  Is it because 
maybe they'll be afraid we'll start another war, sir?"

The
colonel rocked back again in his chair, and banged against the porch's
railing.  "Christ," he said angrily, and scooted his chair up a bit. 
"I don't know why I keep doing this.  If
you're the best we can do, it's hopeless.  Helmut, the whole point is
supposed to be that you show these all-too-complacent liberals just how
good the arguments could be.  Then maybe they'll wake up and realize
that they can't just sit on their comfy fat asses and do nothing. 
They'll actually have to organize if they don't want four more years of right 
wing morons running Washington.  And we can show them how to get organized.  
That's
how it's supposed to work, Helmut."

"Yes sir, I understand sir."

"No,
Helmut, I don't think you do.  The arguments have to be GOOD, Helmut, they have 
to be co-her-ent.  You understand?  Incoherent pompous drivel doesn't scare 
anybody.  The liberals might even think they don't have to do anything, that no 
one would vote for anyone who had such idiots feeding them their material.  You 
could be undermining the entire mission."

"Sorry, sir."

"You sure are."

"Yes, sir, I am sir.  What do you want me to do, sir?"

"You, Helmut?"  The colonel stood up.  "I want you to pack your bags."

"Yes sir.  Am I going somewhere, sir?"

"Yes."  The colonel began switching off the monitors.

"Where sir."

"I don't know, Helmut, and what's more I don't give a damn."

Eric Dean
Washington, DC

Other related posts: