Tidligere Forsvarssjef Sverre Diesen har benyttet anledningen til å argumentere nok en gang for sin idé om et profesjonelt Forsvar. Og han skyter uvanlig skarpt. Men så bommer han så det suser også.
En av de beste kommentarene om hva denne saken handler om, kom i en kronikk i Adresseavisen fra en kadett ved Luftkrigsskolen. Han hevder at norske soldater ikke får kritikk for å gjøre en dårlig jobb, "men for i det hele tatt å utføre jobben de blir pålagt."
En venn av meg i England sendte meg nettopp dette diktet. Jeg kan ikke gå god for innholdet, og jeg kjenner ikke forfatteren. Men det har noen gode poenger. Først og fremst dette: Soldatene er sendt ut for å gjøre noe av det mest ekstreme en lovlig valgt regjering kan pålegge sine borgere. Og de gjør det på vegne av oss alle sammen. De forventer ikke at alle skal være enige med alt de gjør til enhver tid. Men de forventer at de samme som sender dem ut, anerkjenner dem og - om nødvendig - gjør sitt ytterste for å forsvare dem mot grunnløse, tabloide og sensasjonspregede oppslag som er fullstendig tatt ut av sin sammenheng.
Jeg gjengir diktet til ettertanke.
A Poem Worth Reading
He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.
And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' jimmy has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.
He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.
It is not the politicians/news reporter
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.
He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honour
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."