To: Gordon A. Langston who wrote (126539 ) 3/18/2004 8:08:10 PM From: Jacob Snyder Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 281500 Home Come Your Sons On this misty spring day at an airfield in Oxfordshire ten hearses wait. Families in formal lines, bandsmen, commanders - the services' top brass, chaplains, the Duke of York, the Minister of Defence, here to do their bit, wait and watch the sky, searching for a sign of a returning plane. Then suddenly with massive roar the huge transporter touches down. They wait again, and how much longer must they wait this awful apparition? At last unseen forces lower the huge tail door. This is the moment. Home come your sons - the first to die in this sad war. One by one, ten coffins draped in union flags are carried shoulder high by six young men walking at a solemn pace. Fine words are spoken - words of respect and consolation. In turn each coffin is borne to each waiting hearse and the band plays Handel's mournful march. You know they did their duty - good-hearted, keen, they had so much to give. Yet this is their reward. It makes no sense. You shake with grief and utter loss. You are filled with pride and try to comprehend the reasons your sons died who should have lived. Regrettably, the public also has a right to ask, was fighting in this war a necessary task? Was it right that your sons went to bomb and kill people who bore us no ill? They were a courageous band of brothers who went abroad to risk the lives of others. It must take guts to drop those bombs on defenceless people who had no chance. Was it really necessary to attack the innocent people of Iraq? - Children, half of them, and over half malnourished. What had they done to us to be so punished? Your boys didn't have to maim and kill or break the hearts of mothers. This is the shamefullest of wars. They could have used their talents in a decent cause. They could have lived, and you could see them still. by David Roberts