Some here may know the story. The rest will just wonder!
Posted on 01/22/2002 7:46:39 AM PST by maxwell
PEGGY NOONAN 'Everybody's Been Shot' Friday, January 11, 2002 12:01 a.m.
There's a small but telling scene in Ridley Scott's "Black Hawk Down" that contains some dialogue that reverberates, at least for me. In the spirit of Samuel Johnson, who said man needs more often to be reminded than instructed, I offer it to all, including myself, who might benefit from its message.
The movie, as you know, is about the Battle of the Bakara Market in Mogadishu, Somalia, in October 1993. In the scene, the actor Tom Sizemore, playing your basic tough-guy U.S. Army Ranger colonel, is in charge of a small convoy of humvees trying to make its way back to base under heavy gun and rocket fire. The colonel stops the convoy, takes in some wounded, tears a dead driver out of a driver's seat, and barks at a bleeding sergeant who's standing in shock nearby:
Colonel: Get into that truck and drive.
Sergeant: But I'm shot, Colonel.
Colonel: Everybody's shot, get in and drive. "Everybody's shot." Those are great metaphoric words. Let me tell you how they seem to apply metaphorically. An hour before I saw the movie, I was with friends at lunch, and they filled me in on the latest doings in our beloved country while I was away. Cornel West is very, very angry at Larry Summers for suggesting that Prof. West shouldn't essentially perp-walk his way through the halls of academe. A Secret Service agent-a presidential Secret Service agent!--had a hissy fit when an airline pilot refused to let him board a plane carrying his gun with dubious paperwork. The agent is not only threatening a lawsuit, he says he doesn't want money when he wins. He wants the airline to be forced to give sensitivity training. I thought: I think someone needs sensitivity training all right, but I don't think it's the airline.
Just after the movie, I picked up Ellis Cose's latest book, "The Envy of the World," about the "daunting challenges" that face black men in 21st-century America. I read and thought, Earth to Ellis: Everyone faces daunting challenges in 21st-century America. Because everybody's been shot. What does that mean? It means something we used to know. It means everyone has it hard, everyone takes hits, everyone's been fragged, everyone gets tagged, life isn't easy for anyone.
I turn on morning television and see Rosie O'Donnell referring again to the fact that her mother died when she was young. This of course is very sad, and Rosie has spoken of its sadness very often, and with a great whoosh of self-regard. Her sympathy for her loss made me think, the other day: She doesn't really know that other people lost their mothers when they were young. She doesn't really know that some people never even had mothers.
She doesn't know everybody's been shot. I put on HBO and see their new young poet's show. Young poets-well, they say they're poets; I guess they're more like performance artists-come on and sort of strut around a stage and yell, and the more authentic their anger seems, the more the audience applauds and hoots. These poets seem attached to their separateness and in love with their grievance. "I am one angry Lebanese lesbian," "I am one angry NewYorican mother-lovin' whatever." They pour out their pain. But they don't actually seem to be in pain. They all look like they went to Brown and hang out downtown and have invested fully and happily in the Misery Industrial Complex. They look like they want an agent.
They're not old enough or, in spite of Brown, bright enough to know: Everybody's been shot. A young friend of a friend is still so depressed by Sept. 11 that school and social life and going to a show are now out of the question. "I'm staying home. I'm hurting."
I know, I said a few days ago when we talked. But everyone's hurting, I explain. Then I thought of Tom Sizemore. "Everyone's been shot," I said, "ya gotta get in and drive anyway."
When I was a child in the old America, people said things like, "It ain't easy." Then they'd shrug. Or, "Whatta ya want, life ain't easy!" I think people actually sighed more in those days, issued forth big long sighs that said: Life is hard. There was a sort of general knowledge that each day would not necessarily be a sleigh ride, and that everyone hits bumps along the way, and some of them are really hard, and everyone sooner or later hits them.
But now, more so than in the past, something has grown in our country, grown perhaps because of good things like psychotherapy and bad things like group-identity politics. And that something is an increasing tender regard for one's own sensitivities and quirks and problems and woes-twinned with a growing insensitivity to everyone else's quirks and problems and woes. This is not progress. If we became more aware of others instead of demanding that others be more aware of our needs, we would probably get a better fix on life, a better perspective, a better sense of everyone's context. We'd wind up more patient with others, more sympathetic. We could actually wind up sensitive to someone other than ourselves.
I sound earnest today. I am earnest today. But I will make this more fun. The week included the story of a congressman, who through no fault of his own, was humiliated, treated with great insensitivity. I am speaking of John Dingell, the Democrat from Michigan. Mr. Dingell, as you know, is an important veteran congressman who has grown used to-how to put it?-- asserting his needs and seeing to it that they are met. John Dingell was trying to get on a plane the other day when his artificial hip set off a magnetometer. He pointed out that it was an artificial hip, and I suspect he pointed out that he was a member of Congress who does not fit the prevailing terror profile. But you know what the security guards did? They took him into a side room, made him take off his pants and wanded him. John Dingell had to stand there in his underpants proving he wasn't carrying a gun.
When the story became public, the secretary of transportation called him and apologized. Mr. Dingell waved him off and told him it was OK, he understands, everyone's doing his job.
Now that's someone who knows that everybody's been shot.
1945 - NCO's had a typewriter on their desks for doing daily reports.
2001 - everyone has an Internet access computer, and they wonder why no work is getting done.
1945 - we painted pictures of girls on airplanes to remind us of home.
2001 - they put the real thing in the cockpit.
1945 - if you got drunk off duty your buddies would take you back to the barracks to sleep it off.
2001 - if you get drunk they slap you in rehab and ruin your career.
1945 - you were taught to aim at your enemy and shoot him.
2001 - you spray 500 bullets into the brush, don't hit anything, and retreat because you're out of ammo!
1945 - canteens were made of steel, and you could heat coffee or hot chocolate in them.
2001 - canteens are made of plastic, you can't heat anything in them, and the water always taste like plastic.
1945 - officers were professional soldiers first and they commanded respect.
2001 - officers are politicians first and beg not to be given a wedgie.
1945 - they collected enemy intelligence and analyzed it.
2001 - they collect your pee and analyze it.
1945 - if you didn't act right, the Sergeant Major put you in the brig until you straightened up.
2001 - if you don't act right, they start a paper trail that follows you forever.
1945 - medals were awarded to heroes who saved lives at the risk of their own.
2001 - medals are awarded to people who work at headquarters.
1945 - we defeated powerful countries like Germany and Japan.
2001 - we come up short against Iraq and Yugoslavia.
1945 - if you wanted to relax, you went to the rec. center, played pool, smoked, and drank beer.
2001 - you go to the community center and you can play pool.
1945 - if you wanted beer and conversation you went to the NCO or Officers' Club.
2001 - the beer will cost you $2.75, membership is forced, and someone is watching how much you drink.
1945 - the Exchange had bargains for soldiers who didn't make much money.
2001 - you can get better and cheaper merchandise at Wal-Mart.
1945 - we could recognize the enemy by their Nazi helmets.
2001 - we are wearing helmets that look just like theirs.
1945 - we called the enemy names like "Krauts" and "Japs" because we didn't like them.
2001 - we call the enemy the "opposing force" or "aggressor" because we don't want to offend them.
1945 - victory was declared when the enemy was defeated and all his things were broken.
2001 - victory is declared when the enemy says he is sorry.
1945 - a commander would put his butt on the line to protect his people.
2001 - a commander will put his people on the line to protect his butt.
1945 - wars were planned and run by generals with lots of important victories.
2001 - wars are planned by politicians with lots of equivocating.
1945 - we were fighting for freedom, and the country was committed to winning.
2001 - we don't know what we're fighting for, and the government is committed to social programs (used to be called 'socialism').
1945 - all you could think about was getting out and becoming a civilian again.
2001 - all you could think about was getting out and becoming a civilian again.
Next day the father gets a call from the kid who proceeds to tell his Dad that he froze in the door and could'nt jump. The jumpmaster being an old Senior Chief in the navy said ......Son I have to inform you that I am gay and theres only one way your gonna get outta jumping today and grinned at him.........
After a long pause on the phone the Father asked his son .....well did ya jump ???
The young recon troop came back with..........Yeah a little at first !
:o) Stay Safe and regards from Retired USAF EOD (72-96)
Stay Safe Ya'll !
Some here may know the story. The rest will just wonder!
they were both army, army guys tuck their ties in.
OK - I'm wondering. What's the story?
Lunch?
Here's one from the UK:-
In the summer of 1940 the RAF was on high alert. Each time the siren sounded the pilots would scramble, most of the time to a false alarm.
One imaginative pilot decided this was too boring, so he bought a monkey and taught it to fly. Now when the siren sounded it was the monkey who scrambled, while the pilot stayed in his hut. The system worked very well.
Finally the war ended and the pilot went on to college and became a teacher.
Oh, what about the monkey?
He became an Air Vice-Marshall.
Here's one from the UK:-
In the summer of 1940 the RAF was on high alert. Each time the siren sounded the pilots would scramble, most of the time to a false alarm.
One imaginative pilot decided this was too boring, so he bought a monkey and taught it to fly. Now when the siren sounded it was the monkey who scrambled, while the pilot stayed in his hut. The system worked very well.
Finally the war ended and the pilot went on to college and became a teacher.
Oh, what about the monkey?
He became an Air Vice-Marshall.
"After being in the field for two weeks, the Recon Unit decided they needed to bring home a pussy cat."
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