Beginning this column, I was going to list the names of the journalists that I’ve seen on the TV news and read in the magazines covering the Ukraine story. I’ve been keeping track, because I want to remember them, but I’m hesitating to list their names. I don’t know what kind of pressure they’re under, what kind of danger they face. I don’t want to add a grain of sand to the packs they carry. In my mind, they’re the heroes of this deplorable saga. And many of them are women. That’s why we know so much about the impact of this invasion on women and children. These female journalists see themselves when they look in the terrified eyes and they care.
Despite our delusional descriptions of men on white horses, carrying heavy packs, shooting when they saw the whites of eyes, battles have never been confined to battlefields far from women and children.
Think of the Siege of Vicksburg in 1863—more than a month of isolation and starvation for the civilians in that city. That was a strategy led by Ulysses S. Grant. In his memoirs, Grant mentioned women four times 1,232 pages, and in three of those times humanity was lumped together without distinction as “men, women and children.” Think of the Battle of Guernica. Think of the London Blitz. Think of Hiroshima, Nagasaki. Think of My Lai. Aggression against unarmed civilians has long been a sad aspect of war.
When these atrocities are reported, the discovery is usually weeks, months or years after the fact. From that historical distance, there’s a kind of numbness. “Oh, yeah,” we tell ourselves, “that’s terrible, but it was a long time ago. We can’t do anything about it now.” With Ukraine, thanks partly to focus from the women reporting on it, we’re seeing the bararous cruelties in real time. The World Health Organization estimated that 64 hospitals had been bombed as of March 24, and the United Nations estimated that 776 schools have been attacked.
Many years ago, when one of our sons joined the US Army, I searched for an explanation. Why would a youngster with all his life ahead of him join an organization that it was obvious to the elders would use him up and spit him out? The child seemed like a possum sniffing apples and stumbling into the Havahart trap. The outcome? Be turned loose in a strange forest to fend for yourself against the other possums. Or, if the trapper is in another mood, sick and tired of possums, be killed.
Searching for explanation, I read “The Red Badge of Courage,” Stephen Crane’s masterpiece about a youngster in the Civil War, on a quest for glory. Then I read Jarhead, the Anthony Swofford book about a marine in the Gulf War. Then, “The Greatest Generation,” about fellows who fought because it was the right thing to do. Then, I skimmed “The Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant,” a book that’s short on human stories and long on campaigns.
So, what did these generations, and these thousands and thousands of interrupted young lives, have in common? Was it the search for glory? Of course. That, and the brainwashing of young recruits. Fears of retaliation if they shirked duty. Love of their fellow warriors. In the US, a chance for an education using the GI Bill. As a child of the Vietnam era, it seemed obvious to me that soldiers willing to be trained to invade another place were (are) delusional. Because I’m always reading between the lines to find the other story. Not the soldier, but the invaded ones.
While there might have been a passing glance at the victims in these records of war, the writers mostly focus on what’s going on in the brains of the soldiers. That’s what hero books do. “History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it” said Winston Churchill. But there has been no corresponding literature that records the women’s point-of-view. I guess publishers would tell you there’s been no market for that kind of story. No room on the shelves for more Anne Frank diaries. Women and children have always been damaged by war, of course. And they have been courageous, tended the wounded, found jobs and housing for the displaced, washed the corpses and fed everyone, but their experiences are simply sad collateral. Not part of the big story.
And, with the war in Ukraine, that erasure is challenged. Turn on the evening news during this holocaust, and you’ll see women, schools, hospitals, food supplies, childhood front and center. What’s changed? Perhaps the editors see that stories of evil by Russia, the traditional evil enemy, sell papers.
For the first time, the invaded tell their stories to listeners that include a great number of female journalists covering this war. Listen up, Friends, and remember what they’re teaching.
Margot Ford McMillen farms near Fulton, Mo., and co-hosts “Farm and Fiddle” on sustainable ag issues on KOPN 89.5 FM in Columbia, Mo. She also is a co-founder of CAFOZone.com, a website for people who are affected by concentrated animal feeding operations. Her latest book is “The Golden Lane: How Missouri Women Gained the Vote and Changed History.” Email: margotmcmillen@gmail.com.
From The Progressive Populist, May 1, 2022
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