a powerful moment

There was a Women's Memorial at Arlington Cemetery and the current presentation is a photographic chronicling of the American Soldier from the Civil War to Iraq war (not women...just The American Soldier).

I cried several times. The similarities are incredible....war is always the same and never the same. Husbands always have to leave their wives, fathers always have to leave their children, sons always have to leave parents. There is always injustice to be fought. The kind of injustice is always different, but it's always against humanity. Maybe of different color maybe of different culture, but always against people. It's always people. I looked at every photograph, every caption, and I was captivated by each one. Certain ones made more of an impression than others: the one of a soldier smelling the first letter he had received from his wife, the one of a woman exclaiming to soldiers that "all Belfront is liberated" during WWII, the one of a soldier cradling another after he's found his battle buddy has died, the one of a wounded medic still caring for another soldier, and this list could go on. Not until the Gulf War photos did color appear, and somehow, it made it more real, touching deeper, the color bringing a life and reality to the event and a connection to where we are now. When I turned the corner to the photos of the Iraq war each step through the hall brought a tear to my eye, dates and places were familiar to me, too familiar.

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