As I watched the refurbished USS Interpid glide back into its berth today, its deck lined with former crew members, I thought about how much of a relic from a bygone era is this World War II vintage aircraft carrier.
At the height of her service, the Intrepid sustained massive casualties in battles with the Japanese, most of them from kamikaze attacks that nearly sunk the ship. So its crew was tasked not only with projecting America’s power against our enemies but also with fighting for their very existence. Without question, the ship lived up to its name and paid for it in blood and fire.
Today’s carriers, easily twice the size, and other naval ships have little to worry about in terms of their own survival, making the Navy probably the safest branch of service. This is not only because, Russia notwithstanding, few other countries have anything nearly as powerful in the water, but because electronic early warning surveillance, precision-guided missile technology and long-range fighter craft ensure that any threat to a naval craft can easily be neutralized miles before it comes within striking distance.
One recent exception was the terrorist strike on the cruiser USS Cole, the result of a sneak attack by a civilian craft in what was supposed to be a friendly port. That mistake surely won’t happen again anytime soon.
Other than that, despite the fact that our ships are fully involved in combat operations, nearly all naval casualties these days happen in accidents, like the infamous gunnery explosion on the USS Iowa or the undersea crash that nearly sank the USS San Francisco, a nuclear submarine.
That makes the bravery of the men who served aboard and kept the Intrepid afloat during numerous battles that much more striking. It was not just a matter of being brave and staying at your post under the most horrible conditions but also having both the skill and determination to defeat the enemy.
The private foundation that turned Intrepid into a museum raised and spent about $120 million to refurbish the ship.
Even with the above in mind, I have mixed feelings about this. That there are more urgent uses for that kind of money goes without saying.
But there is also the point raised today by the inevitable protestors. Is this musuem glorifying the sacrifice of the people who served, or military power and war itself?
What message are we sending to the thousands of children who will visit on school and family outings? That war is cool?
Whether they served in World War II, Korea, Vietnam or Iraq, thousands of veterans could tell those kids there is nothing cool about it. Soldiers die, often in gruesome, painful ways, and so do civilians. Many come back with limbs or other pieces of themselves missing, and most are haunted by memories of trauma they will never shake. While they can rightfully look back on those experiences as the proudest of their lives, few would care to relive them.
According to the leaflets handed out by the few dozen protestors, who noted that the ship’s return to its museum port coincided with Mahatma Gandhi’s birthday, the Interpid is”a celebration of military adventurism over diplomacy” and a “blatant indoctrination of school children” and a “military recruitment vehicle.”
I approached one of those protestors and said I partially agreed, and was uncomfortable with deceiving children into thinking that war is all about cruising around on a big ship with cool planes, even in these days when few sailors do get killed.
At the same time, I said, there has never been a greater need for a strong military, well equipped with the best in both firepower and manpower. You can’t be a lamb in a world of wolves.
Or a Gandhi in a world of Bin Ladens.
It will be a great day when navy ships, bombers and tanks can be melted down to build playgrounds and school buses. But that day is probably centuries, and numerous military victories away.
When she shrugged and walked off, in the shadow of that great ship, I knew that both of us were good Americans for speaking our mind. But it was the men on that ship, and the ones at sea, in the air and on land today, who made the conversation possible.
At the height of her service, the Intrepid sustained massive casualties in battles with the Japanese, most of them from kamikaze attacks that nearly sunk the ship. So its crew was tasked not only with projecting America’s power against our enemies but also with fighting for their very existence. Without question, the ship lived up to its name and paid for it in blood and fire.
Today’s carriers, easily twice the size, and other naval ships have little to worry about in terms of their own survival, making the Navy probably the safest branch of service. This is not only because, Russia notwithstanding, few other countries have anything nearly as powerful in the water, but because electronic early warning surveillance, precision-guided missile technology and long-range fighter craft ensure that any threat to a naval craft can easily be neutralized miles before it comes within striking distance.
One recent exception was the terrorist strike on the cruiser USS Cole, the result of a sneak attack by a civilian craft in what was supposed to be a friendly port. That mistake surely won’t happen again anytime soon.
Other than that, despite the fact that our ships are fully involved in combat operations, nearly all naval casualties these days happen in accidents, like the infamous gunnery explosion on the USS Iowa or the undersea crash that nearly sank the USS San Francisco, a nuclear submarine.
That makes the bravery of the men who served aboard and kept the Intrepid afloat during numerous battles that much more striking. It was not just a matter of being brave and staying at your post under the most horrible conditions but also having both the skill and determination to defeat the enemy.
The private foundation that turned Intrepid into a museum raised and spent about $120 million to refurbish the ship.
Even with the above in mind, I have mixed feelings about this. That there are more urgent uses for that kind of money goes without saying.
But there is also the point raised today by the inevitable protestors. Is this musuem glorifying the sacrifice of the people who served, or military power and war itself?
What message are we sending to the thousands of children who will visit on school and family outings? That war is cool?
Whether they served in World War II, Korea, Vietnam or Iraq, thousands of veterans could tell those kids there is nothing cool about it. Soldiers die, often in gruesome, painful ways, and so do civilians. Many come back with limbs or other pieces of themselves missing, and most are haunted by memories of trauma they will never shake. While they can rightfully look back on those experiences as the proudest of their lives, few would care to relive them.
According to the leaflets handed out by the few dozen protestors, who noted that the ship’s return to its museum port coincided with Mahatma Gandhi’s birthday, the Interpid is”a celebration of military adventurism over diplomacy” and a “blatant indoctrination of school children” and a “military recruitment vehicle.”
I approached one of those protestors and said I partially agreed, and was uncomfortable with deceiving children into thinking that war is all about cruising around on a big ship with cool planes, even in these days when few sailors do get killed.
At the same time, I said, there has never been a greater need for a strong military, well equipped with the best in both firepower and manpower. You can’t be a lamb in a world of wolves.
Or a Gandhi in a world of Bin Ladens.
It will be a great day when navy ships, bombers and tanks can be melted down to build playgrounds and school buses. But that day is probably centuries, and numerous military victories away.
When she shrugged and walked off, in the shadow of that great ship, I knew that both of us were good Americans for speaking our mind. But it was the men on that ship, and the ones at sea, in the air and on land today, who made the conversation possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment