Us and them...

You hear it all the time.

"This isn't about 'us' and them'."

But sometimes, it is. Sometimes, it's about who you are and what and why you do what you do, and why you're different from the other people. There are differences between us and them. There are cultural diffences, political differences and theological differences between everyone, and I think denying it and wishing it will go away isn't practical.

We are different. Those of us who have seen the elephant, and walked away from it, we are different from those who haven't.

Those who have served honorably in combat, and I do mean honorably, we are different. We're a step apart most of the time, a step away, and a step ahead. Most of the time, we look at the world with a different perspective that makes us angrier than your average civilian. We do things that your average civilian will never, ever understand.

For our brothers and sisters who have fallen, we understand that this is indeed war, and that it is our job to bleed and die for this nation. We still get angry though. We still cry over the friends who will forever be 19 or 21, who will never see their children grow up or wish on the first star of the evening. We know that they are the reason the line holds, not some smarmy politician or slick Hollywood actor. We hold the line because of the men and women here with us, the ones who we laugh with, joke with, tell "No shit, there I was" stories with and turn to when one of us is lost.

So, knowing that, we are different and to me, that is almost an "us and them" situation.

Criminals are treated with harsh words and humiliation and the world is in an immediate uproar. Soldiers and marines and any military personnel are pointed at, "They're the animals, they're worse than the men they're assigned to guard." We are different.

Two of my brothers were slaughtered like animals, and their bodies desecrated by the butchers who walk on two legs, and the hue and cry is muted, and we are told that we've brought this on ourselves by our treatment of detainees and prisoners. People rub their hands in glee and salivate over the spin they can put on this to embarass and humiliate the administration. We just mourn, and are angry. We still do our jobs, we still hold the line, and two more step up for the fallen. We are again different.

I've searched and searched and searched and I'm finding few denouncements of the murder of our soldiers. I'm finding few celebrities, who will stand up and condemn US soldiers, have stood up and said that they condemn the men who did this, condemn the men who would stand by and watch this happen, condemn the men who would encourage this in their organization. I'm not seeing very much from the anti-war groups who were quick to throw virulent rhetoric around when it was the US ignoring human rights and tormenting people.

Somehow, all these groups are silent on the men who strap bombs to themselves and target children, women, hospitals. These groups are silent on this, but turn your attention to Gitmo or AG, and you'll hear them, in choruses of sneering condescension. They point to the fact that we're supposed to wear the white hat, to stand up for truth and liberty, and that we're better than our opponents who torture and kill civilians as a matter of course.

Yes, we are. We are different, and we are better than that. Such a tiny fraction of the military is involved in these allegations and instances of torture, but it would seem as though we are all standing around the desert trading receipes on the best way to torture Jamal the Suspected Terrorist, or our favorite "Pin the crime on a local haji" game. Is it any wonder that we close ranks against the harpies that celebrate our tragedies as one more bit of "proof" that the government, including its soldiers, are corrupt and venal.

Is it any wonder that we will hide and cover and mislead about anything we do? We know, without a doubt, that we are tried, convicted and condemned by the media and the much public before our crimes have been investigated.

I began to understand yesterday exactly how different I am. I understand now, that despite the talk about "heroes," and "supporting the troops," we are still not quite real people. We're mythic figures, some tragic, some heroic, some fading into the background of history.

We'reheld to Herculean standards, to support the weight of the world's expectations, and when we fall, we are villified for it. Still, we stand again, ignore the pain and the anguish of what this war is costing us, and we shoulder the burden again. We look to one side and then the other and see the line holding, and we realize that we are indeed different.