I met a guy in the pub last week and I have to say he made quite an impact on me. I was popping in for a quiet drink with Steve when Jim pipped up from the bar and said "hi". He was one of those guys that releshes meeting new people and telling them all about himself so within five minutes I probably new more about him than the neighbours I've lived next to for five months...
Jim is in a wheel chair, he's lost his right leg and the doctors are asking to take his left. He has multiple scars all over his body and he's only just left hospital after 14 months of rehabilitation. Jim was hit by a grinade thrown by a 17 year old boy in Basra, Iraq. As Jim lay on the ground, thinking he was about to die he saw the boy shot down by his best friend and fellow British soldier. He didn't die straight away, he lived long enough to speak with them in excellent English, to tell them his Dad had studied in London and to ask them to pray to their God.
I am a very blessed objector who has struggled with the morality of the second Iraqi war from the commfortable distance of my sofa in front of the TV. I think we hashed the whole thing and we've created an incredible mess. Listening to Jim however I realised that there was no room for doubting or procrastinating when you're fighting in the streets.
War is always ugly, this one as much as any other but I felt for Jim. I hope this isn't another Vietnam. I hope that no matter what public opinion about the wisdom (or lack there of) of our national leaders, we will always accept the victims, of whatever side, who's lives are forever changed who've been pitted against each other for oil, land, pride, money, power or justice.
I have a very comfortable life paid for with the sacrifice of so many. xc