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Guarding the Box at Winter Soldier 2008

By Diane Wood

When Ken Farr, a Smedley Butler vet, asked me to smooth the edges of some flamingo pink tape on the carpet at the foot of the dais at Winter Soldier, I didn't know that the box we created would become the center of my universe for the next four days. All of my Vetspeak.org friends were signed up for security. But surveying my own experience and worth to the group during the sign-up process, I was fully aware of my lack of combat or crowd control experience. I figured childcare, food service or even the registration table might work. And then I remembered myself.

Diane guarding the box

If all my Vetspeak.org friends could work security; why not me, too? When it evolved that my post would be front and center, I questioned whether IVAW needed someone more macho in the role. True to their decades-long support of women in key roles, I was proud and humbled to be included as part of the primarily VVAW and VFP-related security team in the main room. As things progressed, one audience member asked me where I got the training to do the job. "Motherhood and menopause," I told her. "That's all anyone needs to know." But still, I didn't feel quite right.

I had it easy, didn't I? Unlike the old VVAW and VFP vanguard securing the front gate, standing for hours at a time in the rain and cold dealing with protesters, I had a dry seat at the party. I could sit down. I felt guilty about that. From where I sat (5th row center aisle), I could hear every word uttered by every panelist. I could see the sweat on these young veterans' brows, the tears running down their faces, expressions of commitment, determination, guilt and pain. When a vet shouted from the dais, I felt the winds of change. When they laughed for fear of crying, I could feel the heat of their battles. And when they tossed their innocence, their medals, their blood in anguish into the crowd, it all came flying at me in pieces, my entire being seared by it all. Maybe this wasn't such an easy post after all. But I was not alone.

If America (and history) has any conscience, the anguish of the veterans and speakers on the dais last weekend will be heard. (You must hear them at ivaw.org). But there was another set of emotions rising, a fierce set of emotions happening -- and that is the emotions felt by the deeply grieving audience. This was a working audience, a profoundly affected audience, a compassionate audience that not only had my back as a security person, but the backs of every testifier on stage. If any violence had been propagated against those young men and women, I know many who would have taken the bullet. There is no question in my mind. Yet this audience also sometimes pushed the limits, causing security like me to spring into action at a second's notice. Yes, some didn't realize that the rules had to apply to everyone or they wouldn't be respected by anyone. This included war heroes, famous journalists, testifiers, infamous anti-war leaders-- everyone. And yes, there was even a man who challenged me three times over two days, with his square body, middle finger and flaming, angry eyes:

"I want to sit in THAT chair NOW," his eyes said to me, even if it meant creating a distraction from the veteran testifying. "You are mindlessly policing someone who doesn't need policing."

But this is what I actually 'heard' him say:

"I am deeply grieving, as America should grieve, about the testimonies of these veterans, about what they've had to go through, about what they are still going through. I am tired of mindless, self-serving authority, authority ridden with senseless, self-serving agendas and random parameters. It is time, once again, for America to question their leaders. I do not know what authority to rage at. I do not know where to put the emotions I feel."

And there I was.

Even if I overstate this man's motivations, as I interacted with this audience it was clear that as a group they were no strangers to questioning authority. Given the scarcity of mainstream American press at the event, it was an act of revolution just to attend! If a few lost their way in the sea of emotion and pain, and I stood inadvertently in the way -- I say: "Go home, write your feelings into words that others can read. Talk to people, show them your pictures, your film. Do what you can to inspire others to seek The Truth. Ending a war is a messy, emotionally bloody business. And at least, by God, you showed up to the party. How can we not honor you for that?"

Looking back over that weekend, no one left without some level of PTSD. The question is, is it only the testifiers, the volunteers and the audience feeling the pain? Shouldn't ALL Americans feel the pain? Shouldn't ALL Americans care enough to seek out The Truth, to stop encouraging family members to fight mindless, unreasonable wars based on misinformation and blind patriotism. Is there no collective memory left in America? Can't we see that instead of coming home feeling like victorious war heroes, many of our daughters and sons return disillusioned and in pieces? This is a professional, non-conscripted military. What has caused this change of heart in such volunteers? What is actually happening over there? What is happening within the military itself Listen to the Veterans who have been there! Show Us the Images, too!

As Amy Goodman of Democracy Now put it, if it takes weeks of publishing true images from the occupations to make Americans realize what is truly happening, then so be it. Show us the images! It is time for our government to share the burden of our veterans and other conscious souls – and for all Americans to experience the disillusionment and devastation that comes from sending men and women off to another mistake of a war. It is time for America as a country to shed some tears, a sea full of them, and to turn the mirror of responsibility on themselves and to experience, firsthand, a whole shitload of PTSD. And then – even more importantly – it is time to act.

As a woman experiencing Vietnam-era deju vu, I wasn't as shocked as some other audience members at the specifics of the testimonies. In fact, I wanted MORE. Not because I am immune to human pain, not because it doesn't devastate and disembowel me – but because I know how many millions of PR dollars are being spent by the government and others to successfully suppress these voices and experiences. In America, when we feel discomfort or pain, we race to the doctor. But wake up! The doctor is out and the Resistance has begun–-fuelled and inspired by the testimonies of courageous veterans, supporters and even active duty military. Around the globe, veterans and supporters have begun to see through the lies we've been fed by the large PR firms hired by our government with our very own tax dollars.

We have begun to gather with one simple, humanistic, time-sensitive, overwhelming, crucial, gut-wrenching, utterly important purpose--to save lives on both sides of the fight. Make no mistake about this, we are the bullies! Most Iraqi people do not want us there destroying their 7,000 year-old culture and history with our 300 year-old one. Listen to your very own veterans; your own boots on the ground. Be affected by their testimonies, as the audience at Winter Soldier was so affected. Help our veterans, in every way possible, publicly and privately, to do their important work. Their words and tears send a very clear message with the proven power to end the occupations, as Vietnam veterans did three decades ago. Educate yourself on this! It is NOT time to increase troop counts in occupied areas: It is time to bring them home.