Category: war

Raining fire

I’ll never forget it as long as I live. The images flooded the news as I woke on the morning of December 22,1988. They said it was a tragedy. Pan Am Flight 103, a 747 named The Clipper of the Seas, fell from 31,000 feet onto the peaceful Scottish Village of Lockerbie. Fire rained down on entire neighborhoods, killing 11 townspeople, a tragic addendum to the 259 that fell to their death. The debris would cover over 850 square miles. When the FBI, as part of an international coalition of law enforcement, determined that a bomb was the cause of the tragedy, it became the largest crime scene in history.

The news had warned us not to jump to conclusions about Terrorism. I immediately believed that it was. After all, I had been paying attention to the aftermath of the 1983 Marine Barracks bombing, responsible for the deaths of 214 US Marines and 48 French soldiers in Lebanon. I had paid attention to the banter between Ronald Reagan and Moammar Gaddafi (sp). I remembered the night “The Gipper” lit up the city of Tripoli, causing the Libyan leader to never sleep in the same bed again for the rest of his miserable, corrupt life. I knew that US Soldiers and citizens were targets, even valuable fodder for Islamists.

I was beyond outraged at the incident. Terrorism enrages me as a concept. I hate, and I stand by that word, anyone who believes that the slaughter of innocents is acceptable in the advancement of a political or religious agenda. To me, such people are lower than the gunk that slugs wipe off their feet. It sickened me. Unfortunately, my following of the case, as often happens when new, equally or more disturbing news stories happen, led me to lose my fervor.

I am so grateful that Netflix has released The Bombing of Flight 103. I was hesitant to watch it for concerns over getting too worked up. As I said, it was a formative event in my life. I pressed on, and despite the resurfacing of dormant emotions, I was deeply impressed by the layers of the story previously unknown to me.
First, the investigation.
Given the technology at the time, joint investigation teams from 21 countries (21 countries lost citizens in the disaster) were able, through good old-fashioned Police Work, to track a single radio bomb to a single luggage container, the airport in which it was loaded (there were layovers), and eventually the men who did it, along with every detail of their plan. Over 11 years, investigators tirelessly put together a case that would provide a semblance of justice for the beleaguered families of the victims, who had been treated poorly all around. The airline responsible was less than accountable and not suitably cooperative, as well as miserly in their proposed financial settlements. Also, there was widespread dissatisfaction with the lack of communication and the slow pace of the investigative agencies. I could go into more detail, but I’d rather you give it a watch.

The bright spot for me about the series, despite the attention to detail and historical accuracy, was the people of Lockerbie. Lockerbie, Scotland, is a very small town, essentially a village. Nothing had ever occurred there on the scale of the Pan Am crash. Yet when the fireball engulfed an entire neighborhood, they quickly moved from shock to action. They immediately gathered together and searched as far and wide as possible, tasked with the gruesome task of finding survivors. It would soon become apparent that there were none. With this grim reality at the forefront, teams of volunteers fanned out to recover remains and collect anything that, per authorities, “wasn’t growing”. The extent to which they collected potential evidence was only outdone by the sensitivity and respect paid to the deceased. One woman is known to have stayed with a body, still strapped in his seat, overnight and most of the next day so that the body would not be alone. Because she wouldn’t have wanted that for one of their own.
In addition, the people of Lockerbie volunteered to bag and tag all evidence so it could be categorized and, hopefully, identified. What was supposed to be a few weeks’ project evolved into over 6 months. The locals remained vigilant. Most of the clues that led to piecing together the attack came from their efforts. In addition to their attention to detail, I was impressed at the care and respect they showed for the victims’ families. They cleaned items such as books. They laundered certain items in some cases. They even added dried bouquets of local flowers that grew in the fields that had come to be littered with victims. To this end, one of the many family members who would come to visit the quiet village of Lockerbie regularly would report that they came to view the crash site as a place of beauty and peace, not a grim reminder of destruction and death.

The deeply respectful, tireless volunteers of Lockerbie are the lesson of this tragedy. Their kindness and selflessness perfectly offset the crime itself, even though it does little to soften the blow. In the face of hatred, biases, and willful devastation at the hands of soulless animals, the people of Lockerbie answered with love, compassion, and unconditional kindness.

While I will never get the image of the Clipper Maid of the Seas’ decapitated cockpit lying helplessly in a field in Scotland, I am at least now somewhat comforted by where it landed.

The veneer of civilization


“Then you see kids, good kids from good families. Back home, these kids would help little old ladies across the street. They would also go to Bible study. Yet, they do these horrible things. They’re in the country for a little bit, and it’s like the veneer of civilization peels right off of them.”

The quote above is from a Vietnam Veteran. He was interviewed for the 10-part documentary The Vietnam War by Ken Burns. He was talking about “acts of war”. In particular, the acts of savagery committed by some American soldiers while serving in Vietnam.

At an average of 90 minutes per episode, completing the series was challenging. But I did, and I have a lot of takeaways. There are hours of battle footage, commentary, and interviews. All the players are involved, including politicians and soldiers from South and North Vietnam, and the enemy. It covers all of the geopolitics involved in Cold War Southeast Asia. Per usual, Burns provides an honest, balanced and unflinching look at one of the darkest chapters in recent history.

The veterans interviewed did the unusual. They talked openly about their experience. They ranged from the reluctant draftee to the hardened veteran. There was also the wide-eyed, eager recruit seeking the honor and glory his father achieved. Finally, there was the everyday guy from Anytown, USA, who felt the call of Patriotism. They all went to the same place, but all came back very different. It wasn’t like the last war, their Dad’s war. And glory was not in the cards.

A lot of men did and saw things that would haunt them. When villages were razed, livestock slaughtered, suspected enemies gunned down, and food supplies destroyed, part of following orders, a lot of soldiers found their moral compass in danger. Some made “deals with the devil” to rationalize their acts. One soldier said, “I will never kill another human, but there’s no limit to how many Vietcong I will waste.” If they are no longer people, then it becomes easier. They are the enemy; they do not matter.

Then some stretched the thin red line even further. Rapes, mass killings of civilians, and excess brutality sometimes occurred. As it says above, it was as if the veneer of civilization had worn off of them.”

At home, the war had changed people as well. The escalating campaign was enormously controversial. Young people broke ranks with their parents’ beliefs. Students took to the streets and challenged authority figures. Peaceful protest morphed into violence as frustration with a growing conflict grew. Pictures of bombing campaigns and burned children were finding their way into American living rooms, and people were outraged. Some activists decided that violence was justified, and riots and bombings occurred. It culminated when the National Guard opened fire on a crowd at Kent State and killed four. One veteran lamented, “It has gotten so bad we are killing our own at home”. Even after the Saigon airlift of ’73, this country was divided and forever damaged.

When the soldiers returned, there was no ticker tape parade. The hostility towards the war had been directed towards those who had been charged with fighting it. The brave men and women who fought the unpopular war returned from planes and boats. They were unjustly called “baby killers” and were spit upon. These people are still owed the Welcome Home they deserved. But as I have said. Everyone and everything had changed.

What are the rules of civilization? Are they inherent? Are we born to act rationally and be decent to each other? Is it the job of parents to instill the concept of society in us? Is the veneer of civilization so thin that it can be easily worn down? Can we easily descend into barbarism and savagery?

You may not know what it was like to see the political climate of the late 60’s and early 70’s. It isn’t too late. You can still see it. Just turn on your TV. Because it’s still happening, only the target of the outrage is different. Riots, Nazi flags, death threats, mass shootings, shouting, fighting, people just being ugly to each other. So I have to ask; if the veneer of civilization is but a thin covering, what’s underneath?