I grew up in the Philippines hating the Japanese until I learned that a school teacher Uncle whose English was good enough to translate for the Japanese was quartered (was gruesome to imagine) in the public square by guerrillas led by an American soldier. My father missed being taken by the Kempetai for harboring a mimeo-machine used to print propaganda for the underground; he was alerted by a Nippon 1st Lt. who watched over his church, so he skipped town "yesterday", Mama ripe with me in her belly.

In 1964, I brought home to Tuguegarao in the Philippies a Singaporian Chinese and a Japanese from the Asian Christian Youth Assembly in Dumaguete. On our first night, a hail of stones rained on my Dad's parsonage roof. Neighbors took exception to my bringing home a Japanese guest.

The wastefulness of life in what used to be a way to resolve conflict is by any standard today, a violation of human rights. I do not wish to denigrate nor diminish the efforts and lives sacrificed at the altar of nationalism and patriotism, but in 2014, there is no more reason for it. The earth is one and there is enough to keep us all in being if we decide to. Perhaps, we can celebrate the lives of vets without adding more to the list. (A dear nephew serves with the US Marines in the Middle East.)

L'achaim!

Jaime

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