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Ken del Rossi
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There is a scene in the
movie Full Metal Jacket in which American foot
soldiers march through the charred, mangled remnants
of a Vietnamese city, distant flames silhouetting them
in the semidarkness, singing the Mickey Mouse Club song.
“Come along and sing a song and join the jamboree!
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!”
The jarring irony of the image and the song is one
of the best statements ever made not just about the
Vietnam War, but also about the ambivalence so many
people feel about America itself. We are, on the one
hand, a generous-hearted people whose culture reflects
optimism and enterprise, who would rather build a village
than bomb one. And yet we are the underwriters of a
frighteningly efficient instrument of destruction, capable
of laying waste to virtually any place or people we
choose. So when we begin talking about military matters,
a mishmash of competing sentiments tugs at us.
Some Americans admire and respect U.S. soldiers but
would rather not use them. Others admire and respect
U.S. soldiers, especially when we use them.
Still others claim to admire and respect U.S. soldiers,
but privately would admit they so abhor the notion of
sanctioned killing they can’t stomach the uniform.
Which brings us to Iraq, and Stanford alumni in the
U.S. military.
We don’t know exactly how many of them there
are—the armed services only ask college graduates
what degree they have, not where they earned it—but
we know there are at least several dozen, and we thought
it was important to acknowledge them and to try to capture
what their experience is like in a time of war. So we
chose one, an Army captain named Roman Skaskiw, to share
a picture of life on the ground in Iraq. You’ll
find his highly personal account here.
Regardless of one’s politics, any reader can
find solace and celebration in Roman’s experience,
as well as sorrow and disappointment. His story is another
reminder that there are many ways to look at the situation
in Iraq. Certainly no narrow viewpoint stands up to
scrutiny when examined through the lens of one who is
actually there, carrying the rifle.
The conflict in Iraq is about so many things—religion,
politics, culture, tribe. But it’s also about
a computer science major from New York, fatigued, doing
his best.
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You probably noticed that this issue of the magazine
looks different from previous ones. Thanks to the work
of art director Bambi Nicklen, STANFORD
received its first redesign in five years. It’s
a cosmetic upgrade, but more than that. It’s driven
by our interest in finding new and better ways to invite
readers onto the page and into a section. We hope you
like the results.
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