ELEVEN YEARS LATER
So many people spoke of Pearl Harbor and the day that will live in infamy. Of how that historical hell was surpassed in a morning in similar fashion.
With kamikaze pilots against the symbols of our land.
Of death dealt to the innocent by the darkest of the dark. By the killers of the young and weak and pure. A brilliant and simple plan from the chambers of evil’s heart.
And we watched on live television.
An accident, for a moment we believed, like that Army bomber at the Empire State Building, with flame and smoke and, “Oh, my God!” And the silhouette of a plane, banking hard, and then a fireball and a sick feeling and a shock that most people never know, shared instantly, by tens of millions in front of their TVs.
They blew it up, live on the satellite.
Oh, my God indeed.
A day that will live in infamy.
The Pearl Harbor of our generation, only 10 or 50 times as bad, a new “Arizona” hit and burned and sunk. And a pall hangs over Gotham and the home of the free and the brave. A great white cloud of fire and destruction, ignited by hate and fueled by trust. We lived like men and the savages have gone for our throats.
A day that will live in infamy.
December 7, 1941. That’s what it made us think of. Of the last sneak attack. Of the last time some no-nut bastards were too cowardly to take us on man-to-man. Of the last time vile infidels spat in our face. The last time some deranged sub-humans prayed to their pagan gods and went thirsting for American blood.
And this time it may be in the tens of thousands. A small city of Americans killed. A year of the Vietnam War crammed into an hour and a half. Depending on how many got out and got away before the great monument of the 1970s came sloughing to the ground, a thundercloud of evil spreading from Manhattan across the globe.
The most casualties sustained in combat in one day in American history. More than Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima and D-Day and Gettysburg and Antietam Creek.
A day that will live in infamy.
The first enemy assault on the American homeland since the War of 1812. A new page in our history.
A day that will live in infamy.
December 7, 1941. That’s what they all said. It was just like then.
Except that then wasn’t just then. Then was the beginning. And it was inextricably tied to the end.
To August 6, 1945. To the day America returned the favor. The day the world learned you don’t mess with the red, white and blue. The day the sneak attack came home to roost. The day American might bought American security.
That is the date we look forward to now. The new day of payback. The day of justice and accounting. The day we blow them to hell.
In a flash of light with munitions from a plane, or in the heavy bombardment of offshore guns, or in the nasty bite of a .45 through the head. They have tried to beard the lion in its den, and it will now rise up and devour them.
Cause somebody’s going to burn for this.
Not some trial in three years with polite arguments at the Hague, not with blustering press conferences, not with hollow rantings at the United Nations, but with cold steel and hot lead. This was an act of war, it must be responded to with an act of war, ruthless and savage war.
Somebody’s got to pay for this, just on principle. Somebody’s got to be pounded good. Not a surgical strike, not a commando raid, but blood for blood, life for life. Not as an act of vengeance exclusively, but as an act of prevention and protection, because the failure to retaliate and demonstrate national rage and power will do nothing but invite further violence and attack. We must declare war on terrorism, on all terrorism and all terrorists, they are all our enemies. And we must physically destroy them and the nations and interests who support them.
If you do not repay the defiler of your home, if you do not recompense him fivefold for his violation, you have surrendered. You have empowered and enticed him and those who would emulate him. You have shown yourself weak.
And it is only the strong who are safe.
A day that will life in infamy. September 11, 2001. Nine-one-one. They called, and we’re going to answer. We will bury our dead and nurse our wounded and soon we will visit our enemies, and the jackals will pick their bones.
Because Pearl Harbor was not an end it was a beginning. A beginning of the end of our enemies’ might. Because the American spirit is not slain or wounded, it is only pricked, pricked and awakened and enraged.
We will pray and mourn and comfort, and then we will gird up our loins. And heaven help the bastards who did this.
Because their days are numbered. We didn't start this, but we're going to finish it.
And 50 years from now we will remember our dead, and piss on our enemies’ graves.
- by Bob Lonsberry © 2012
