Grace or munitions?

Written during the 1st Gulf War

The T.V. announcer stood outside the Parliament building, wrapped warm against the chill night air, “So it’s War, he said, referring to the rebel country' s leaders refusal to meet the United Nations deadline. I fell into a troubled sleep, thinking of the weight this news put onto an already overloaded World and it’s inhabitants.

The preparations for war had been going on for weeks, all around the world the developed nations had been accruing the massive stock of weapons required for a major war in this technological age.

America, the tactile leaders of this war, as with so many former wars, were gearing up their prolific production lines, producing assault weapons of every kind, elsewhere, activity was constant, with each country putting into action the plans rehearsed in the years of peace, which we felt sure would quickly put an end to this troublesome rebels aggressive actions so far away, yet still needing our attention, as they threatened to unsettle the peace and stability that those of us in the northern hemisphere had grown to accept as normal.

The coalition defence forces took up residence on all adjoining frontiers to the rebel country, ready to ensure that any hostile act directed towards the rest of the world, would swiftly be thwarted. Airlifts brought into the region astounding quantities of lifes essentials, and the war machine rapidly took shape in preparation for the day that hostilities were to commence.

On the ground, the advance assault troops took up their positions, and bombers capable of delivering a 10,000 lb. payload, were loaded with the means of bringing about our enemies downfall and the anticipated return to normality we all desired. The world waited with quiet anticipation, we had never before fought a war of such dimensions, costing untold millions of dollars each day, but we knew that we must make the sacrifices needed to remove the rebel leader and his aggressive ideas.

His troops, battle-hardened from many years of both aggression and defence of a local nature, were waiting apprehensively, they were fanatics to a man, fed from their births on a diet of fear and repression, focused upon a God who sought retribution, who led them to believe that they must destroy their neigbours and make slave those they conquered. To them, we were spiritual enemies, we followed a God who let us live in Grace if we chose to, who told us to love our enemies, and to try to bring them to their own salvation, as Gods free creatures.

Many said that this war was inevitable, and was written of in history, as a revelation of what must pass, before a state of Grace could exist in the whole world. Nobody involved had any notion of losing, they because they felt confident of being able to provoke us into making costly assaults upon their war machine, which would dampen our appetite for death, we because we knew that whatever the outcome, we were prepared to bear it, if it meant that we could return again to a state of Grace.

As our motives were just and our intentions charitable, we felt sure that the torrent of justice we were about to unleash upon the world, would be sufficient to cleanse the last vestiges of the disease that had been causing such turmoil since time began.

Our assault began almost immediately, in the first ten days, we flew 20,000 missions into enemy territory, suffering minimal loses from their war machine, with each day we overwhelmed our enemies further, focusing our attention firstly on strategic targets, then slowly across the civilian population, each day undermining his capability to wage war further.

In two months, we had reduced resistance to a few die-hard fanatics, who stubbornly continued to deal out death randomly, whilst running and hiding between attacks, but these people we had plenty of time to cure, in all possible scenarios we ran, we knew that they could never muster sufficient power to wage war again.

Across the enemy nation you could see the results of our campaign, new hospitals, schools, irrigation systems, drought control, warehouses full of grain, mountains of food supplies, agricultural equipment, motorways, new towns, the most modern communications and transport systems, and slowly but surely, we knew that our occupational forces would build a broad based semiautomatic industrial base for them, to support the democratic society we sought to bestow upon our enemies, before we once again felt sure that we could return to living in Grace, in the knowledge that they had the capacity to join us, if they chose to.

I awoke, to the sound of a heavy bomber, enroute from Rota in Spain (loaded with 10,000 lbs of high explosive, certain to be dropped on some 19 year old youth in a sandpit) turning east on the Malaga beacon, and realised that I had only been dreaming.

Nobody would build weapons that could only negate anothers’ offence power, nor invade a country with only goodwill as their shield, offering no aggression, only sharing their good fortune and the worlds bounty with their enemies, listening to their viewpoints and seeking to find the one solution that had never been tried before…

Loving your enemy into a state of Grace.

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