Not My Kid, Says Political Columnist

By Jack Cowan

Nope. Not now. Not a chance.

If someone had told me it would ever come to this, I would have laughed in his face. No more. I will do all I can to discourage my grandson, and other young men, to walk in my footsteps. What was is no more. The warrior culture has been depth charged with such intensity it is now a leaky hull on the way to the bottom.

I was once a proud warrior. I couldn't wait to follow in the footsteps of the World War II patriots who went forth and saved the world. First, enlisting just before North Korea headed south and serving on destroyers in the North Atlantic. Our mission was to be proficient at breaking things and killing people. We were a ship full of "brothers" bound together by our commitment to our ship. When I left the navy, I left a big part of me behind the Marine guarded gates of the giant naval base at Norfolk, Virginia.

Then followed a six year tour of duty in law enforcement, another special brotherhood. (The military differs from law enforcement. The military is constant training for occasional combat. Law enforcement is occasional training for daily combat.) My life was guided by duty, honor and country. And I was a champion of service and sacrifice as needed to protect our nation.

What changed?

A fog of toxic pollutants has swept over our culture. It came to us as a sweet smelling narcotic that intoxicated America with its fragrance. Politically Correct became the norm. Everybody was now equal. Common sense was shoved aside.  The military, as did law enforcement, became a place for social engineering. The boy's club, the warrior culture, was invaded by agents of Victoria's Secret.

How would this set with the touchy-feely present day "leaders," leading us down the path of cultural destruction. My guess is they would see me as a likely candidate for total immersion in a crash course in sensitivity training. Nuts to them.

When you go to war, either take off the gloves or stay home and pout in your room.

It is possible in today's navy, that a young sailor might very well open the door to the bridge and greet the captain with "Hi mom." Our dedicated, all volunteer front line combatants must now carry the "ruck" of females playing at being boy-soldiers. A wink, a whistle, a cough at the wrong time can throw the career of a  commander onto the rocks of this PC mumbo-jumbo.

The warrior culture is in shambles, now, when we need it the most. It's been replaced with a subculture that is more comfortable standing in a circle, holding hands, while singing Kumbuya. It makes me sick and sad. I will bet Osama bin Laden is doing a little dance like Adolph Hitler did when he brought France, with a far superior and much larger military, to her knees. France lacked the resolve then and still does today. They have not learned a thing, but neither have we.

This putrid fog is sprinkled with an equally alarming stench brought on by our politicians, who seem willing to send our young into battle without the dedication to win. Instead we order our youths to go fight but with paper bullets, and pink tanks, and restrictive rules of engagement better suited to the pages of a Girl Scout Handbook. It has become more important to fight for the heart of an enemy, sworn to exterminate us, than it is to win the war as we did in World War II. We gray beards see little difference between militant Islamic Arab suicide bombers and Japanese Samurai warriors and their banzai charges and kamikaze suicide attacks. Be nice. Make them like you, and maybe they will not kill you. And if the going gets tough, you can bet we will not use our arsenal of "big sticks." You can count on us to use restraint, let our troops get killed, and then "redeploy." During the evacuation of Dunkirk (1940) the Brits and French cheered as 350,000 soldiers were "redeployed" from France to England, defeated by the Nazi war machine. Churchill did not share their glee noting wars are not won by evacuating, by retreat, by redeployment.

While our combatants are dying, the politicians wring their hands in anguish, while seeking the cooperation of the leaders of nations, whose religion suggests that we be removed from the face of the earth. "Trust us, but keep on dying."

What ally could possibly trust us to stand and fight?

We should restart our lost resolve by renaming the Department of Defense, the War Department, as it was when we were a giant with a terrible resolve. I fear that this day we have announced to the world that the United States of America is, indeed, a paper tiger.

Perhaps we should reflect on these words instead of the tripe emanating from our spineless politicians.

"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat. You ask what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God has given us, to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalog of human crime. Victory, victory, at all costs; victory in spite of terror; victory however long and hard the road may be."

--Sir Winston S. Churchill, First speech to Parliament as PM. May 13, 1940.

If not mine, whose then?

Editor's Note: Jack is a political columnist in the midwest, a pilot and a conservative.