With the Troops
Both the WaPost and the NYT published Christmas-pegged stories on USO visits with the troops. The Post article, by Tamara Jones, is a vividly written feature that sympathetically captures the strange life of soldiers who are far away from home and, because these troops are in Afghanistan, threatened more by boredom than enemy fire. The story, which deserves reading in full, has many moods but one thing it isn't is snarky.
Last week, though, out of the flat, white sky, a Chinook chopper appeared, swooping down on a handful of bases to deliver a quick dash of holiday cheer, courtesy of an organization famous for that: the USO. From the dust cloud, two men emerged. One was a graying punk rocker, the other an actor few readily recognized.
And with that, a strange war briefly got even stranger.
Politically, Henry Rollins and Patrick Kilpatrick occupy opposite corners. Rollins, the 43-year-old frontman for the '80s punk band Black Flag, focuses now on "spoken-word" tours peppered with rants against the Bush administration and its motives for war. Kilpatrick, a strapping 55-year-old who specializes in playing on-screen villains, defends as righteous both the president and the invasions he ordered.
But the two entertainers share common emotional ground, believing that the troops deserve unconditional respect and gratitude. Their determination to express that, in person, put them on the same handbill when the USO organized a five-day, seven-base holiday tour to Southwestern Asia. This would be just meet-and-greet, handshakes and autographs, chitchat -- but no show. A chance to connect, no matter how fragile, or forced, or fleeting....
Rollins has barely had time to uncap his Sharpie when he hears an urgent voice somewhere near his elbow.
"You're in the outside world . . ." A squirrelly Marine has executed a stealth weave-and-cut maneuver to the front of the autograph line. Rollins turns to him politely.
"I heard Dimebag Darrell got killed. That true?" the Marine blurts out.
"Yes, he got shot," Rollins replies, recounting how heavy-metal guitarist Darrell Abbott was gunned down recently during a bizarre melee in Ohio as his band Damageplan played. The Marine looks ready to cry.
"That's so depressing," he says.
"Really depressing," Rollins agrees. This is his fourth USO gig in a year, and he has come to realize that just showing his recognizable face to a generation of fans now in uniform brings reassurance: "You make them kind of think, 'Okay, the world is still there.' " He tries to resume signing autographs and posing for pictures, but the Marine hovers. He begins to ramble about his old Black Flag and Pantera CDs. Dimebag played for Pantera, too. Somehow when the Marine moved overseas, his prized CD collection got cracked. Now the discs are gone and Dimebag Darrell is dead.
By contrast, the Times article by Thom Sanker is much duller--they don't call the Times the gray lady for nothing--and much less interested in the lives of the troops. It's keeps mentioning Bob Hope and Vietnam and is careful to bring up race and gender. (The USO performers are all white males except for the obligatory eye candy.)
One thing the two articles agree on: Robin Williams is popular with the troops.