The lady is about to sing....

I am going to share a personal story of a past friend of my Father’s which some may find difficult to read, as it involves torture and leads only to sadness. I understand fully should those that find it as such pass it by. After all, there is a war going on and one of the saddest comments to this particular war distinguishing it and setting it apart from the others, there is no such thing as a POW, only torture and death. I am bringing his story up to act as a reminder of the brutality our POW’s endured during the last wars.

My Father often took us to his friend’s home to visit; it was in a nice out of the way country spot. I always found it very difficult, as his friend never seemed quite right. He constantly shook and his whole body would twitch. My Father always told me it was from a wound from WWII. I did not question, I normally went off to find some neighbor boy to play with while my Parents visited.

Later in life, my Father told me the story of his friend. He had been captured along with others after an extensive battle for their lives, spending a few years in captivity of the Japanese being tortured, abused and often left for dead.

My Father had shared that his friend had made it back somehow, but he was not the same man as when he left, unable to raise his arms above his shoulders, the pads of his feet scarred beyond recognition as well as his back, arms and legs. Understandably, he was not able to cope with life in the real world, never able to sleep, always waiting for something that was no longer there and after all that he had went through, slowly drank himself to death at an early age. My Father has long passed and I have no recollections of where his friend served or in what branch, but I recall his constant shaking and my Fathers’ story quite vividly.

At the funeral, his father stood and said of his only son, that he had died during captivity; his soul had left an empty body behind just going through the motions and nothing more. No matter how he died, he was my Father’s friend and I can attest to the fact, he was his personal hero for what he had lived through.

Which leads me to question something, does making prisoners stand for long periods, sleep deprivation, playing music at full volume, having to sit in uncomfortably have anything in common whatsoever with the extended periods of depravation, torture, brutality and often death that our military has endured when captured?

Yahoo News has an article regarding outgoing Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld authorized the mistreatment of detainees and specifically states the supposed degree of mistreatment authorized. I have already mentioned them, but to make a point I will quote the article.

‘The handwritten signature was above his printed name and in the same handwriting in the margin was written: "Make sure this is accomplished,"" she told Saturday's El Pais.

"The methods consisted of making prisoners stand for long periods, sleep deprivation ... playing music at full volume, having to sit in uncomfortably ... Rumsfeld authorized these specific techniques."

Give me a break the intelligence level of this allegation alone lies somewhere between a dead fish and one getting ready to die. Where in the name of everything sacred does it state this degree of interrogation has anything to do whatsoever with true, brutal torture? Further, as far as I am concerned, if playing KISS at full volume to some prisoner while he stands for a few hours or misses a night or two sleep saves the life of one and I repeat, ONE American then play that funky music and play it loud!

This country is so far up its bleeding heart that it may not be able to ever see the sanity of what is right and what is wrong again. The political correctness of this nonsense has become to the point of making me search for a giant barf bag and searching quickly.

This is not cruelty, torture, brutality, or bordering anywhere near what true torture and abuse of a human being is, ask individuals who have been captured in Iraq. Oh, that is right; it is a difficult task for most of them have had their heads cut off very slowly and purposefully.

When will we ever learn what truly takes place in the world? The answer to that question is obvious, when too many people have died and our bleeding hearts have lost their families to terrorist’s attacks as well.

Perhaps then, they might not have a problem with their speakers screaming Garth Brooks and someone standing up for a long period and missing a night’s sleep. Either that or we can all just bend over between our legs and kiss our butt goodbye, for folks, the fat lady is singing soon.