Was It Worth It?

Mist rose over an open field to the East as John surveyed the scene. The battle raged for days in a vicious display of sheer brutality. Now it was over.

His commanding officer told him that this was all “for the greater good” but John wasn’t so sure. Bodies lay everywhere. The ground was red with fresh blood of the men and boys that gave their lives in the fighting. He became sick to his stomach.

As he looked to his left, he saw General Marshall walking through the rows of bodies. He was not wearing his helmet, but his uniform was immaculate in all the glory befitting of a General. But John noticed that the General was not making eye contact with anyone and he quickly realized why. There were tears in the General’s eyes. He saw the streams running down the cheeks of the brave commander.

In a strange way, this brought comfort to John. He realized that the officer was just another man like him. A soldier just like him.

Over the last few days he had seen bullets hit just inches from where he stood. He had seen friends fall with streams of crimson running down their uniforms. He felt the earth quake as mortars exploded all around him. His ears rang from the noise of the shells and the bullets. Fear was a constant throughout the raging affair.

He saw others who were missing limbs. They would never be the same again. Their lives completely changed. They would all be different after this. They could never go back to the way they were before the war began. The impact was too great.

John just wanted to make sense of it all. Why was he spared but others killed? He wanted answers. But he knew the answers would never truly come. It was not his job to make sense of it all. He was a soldier. His job was to fight, not to ask questions.

War is something that you can train for, but you are never really ready for the actual thing. In training, the risk is minimal. You know that you will be alive after the exercise. But that is not the case in a real battle, John thought. 

No, in actual battle lives were on the line. In actual battle, every decision counts. In actual battle, what you do, the decisions you make, can mean the guy standing beside you lives or dies. That is the reality of battle. It is not training. It is not risk free. It is terrible, frightening, deadly.

John continued to look around. Buildings were on fire. Walls were missing. Smoke was rising. Rubble was all over the ground in almost every direction. He couldn’t believe that the stones that flew threw the air missed him every time. How had he escaped the battle without injury?

He felt empty inside. None of this made any sense. None of this seemed to have accomplished anything.

He looked around again. His head spinning in thoughts. How much time had passed? How long had he stared at this scene in thought and wonder? Time felt like it was standing still. It seemed as though the world had just stopped, frozen in time. After all, just twenty-four hours ago they fought here a raging battle here. Bombs were exploding. Gunshots rang out all around. Men were screaming and running while fighting to the death.

But they had won. They beat back the enemy into submission. The war was over now. But John still had these thoughts to deal with. The thoughts of all the countless lives that were lost as a result of this conflict. Men were dead, women were dead, even children were dead. 

Collateral damage is a necessary evil in war. At least, that is what they had been told in training. It was unavoidable. That was imprinted in the fibers of their mind. You cannot think about the extraneous losses. You must only think of the greater good. Think of the end goal. Think of what you are accomplishing with this battle. Think of the outcome of a successful mission.

That sick feeling in John’s stomach returned. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He began to heave and wretch violently. He was sicker than he had ever been before. What had they done here? What had they accomplished? Death? Pain? Suffering? Loss?

It disgusted him. The anguished reality of the situation fell upon him. He had killed. He had fired shots too. He had seen men drop after his finger pulled the trigger. He knew he would have to live with those images for the rest of his life.

For the greater good. For the greater good? What does that even mean? He felt sick again. For the mission? For the plan? For the final outcome? Do the ends really justify the means?

Then he realized something. This is the human condition. This is what we are all about. Power. Control. Prestige. All of this under the guise of nobility and care and compassion. But as he looked around, he only saw death. There was no care. There was no compassion. Just the harsh reality of a bloody war. Nobody at home would understand. How could they? They had seen nothing like he had seen these last few weeks. No, without being in a war, without being in battle, nobody can understand. That much he knew.

John walked over to a pile of rubble and pulled out some rocks to make a chair. He sat down and put his face in his hands. His commanding officer walked by and told him, “Good job soldier. Well done!”

Well done? Good job? John was disgusted at the thought. He looked up at the officer.

“Captain,” he began, “how can you say that? How can you say it was a good job? How can you say it was well done? All we did here was kill. All we did was cause destruction. Yes, I know that the war was against our enemy who was threatening us. I know something needed to be done. But was a full takeover necessary? Was it really for the greater good to do this?”

He continued as the Captain tried to speak, “We killed women and children. Of course, it wasn’t on purpose, but we still did! They were innocent! They had done nothing wrong except to be born in this country! And now they are dead! They are dead because of me! Because of us!”

The Captain backed up a little as John rose to his feet, “I cannot pretend that this is good! I cannot continue to tell myself this was for the greater good! I cannot continue to be a soldier. I just can’t. Look around us, Cap! Look at all of this!”

Immediately John fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably. As the tears slowed, he raised his head to look his captain in the eye and asked, “Was it worth it?”