Phoebe Kate

While I do not support the Iraqi war, I do staunchly support our troops.  I reside in a burg sandwiched in between two military towns where the reality of the war casts its dark pall over everyday life.  As I drive down the road, I see convoys of troops being deployed.  I see the handmade signs and banners on the fences around the bases, welcoming back the fortunate who survived the experience.  In the restaurants and watering holes around here, there’s only one main topic of conversation — who’s being sent out, who’s coming home soon and who has died in action. 

It is reminiscent of the Vietnam War years, an era I remember all too well.  As it was in 1968, so it is in 2008: there’s little optimism, only grim acceptance, and no WWII rallying ’round the flag to make the world safe for democracy.  This war is not about that lofty ideal – and no one understands it better than the those who have to go to the frontline and their families who wait and pray for them at home.  It hardly came as a surprise to hear on this morning’s news that the suicide rate of GIs in Iraq is considered by experts to be shockingly high.  CNN reported that at least 150 “troops” had killed themselves, either in Iraq or after returning stateside. 

Since this war began, I’ve noticed that news reporters on every television channel have started to say “troop” instead of “soldier” when speaking about individuals in the Armed Forces.  We hear daily about 5 “troops” blown up or 30 “troops” lost in a skirmish.  It’s a grossly incorrect usage, of course. Troop is a collective noun referring to a specific battalion of soldiers.  A member of such a battalion is a “trooper.”  If the report today had said 150 troopers had committed suicide, I wouldn’t quibble.  But why is everybody in the media blatantly using the wrong word?  I can’t believe that TV talking heads with journalism degrees from A-list universities don’t know this elementary point of grammar.  And that all the newscasters, not just one or two, are making this flagrant mistake strikes me as very odd indeed.  It almost seems — well, deliberate. 

“Troop” is a conveniently impersonal word, befitting a group.  But when applied to single individuals, it effectively (though in a subtle way) strips him or her of humanity.  We see an anonymous unit, an dehumanized object in a uniform, a cog in a wheel, a nonentity.  A troop has no name, no face and no feelings, whether it be a thousand – or nowadays just one.  That 150 troops have committed suicide conjures no mental image for us.  It’s safe, sterile, detached.

Try using the word soldiers in that same sentence, however, and it suddenly gets a whole lot more personal. We’re reminded that except for the grace of God, it could be our dad or mom or brother or sister or friend in that uniform who was driven by circumstances beyond our imagining to end their own lives. It could even be us.  That changes the whole way in which we view the statistic. 

Does this major grammatical faux pas serve some ulterior motive to divorce us from the reality of  this war?  To objectify its victims to a point where they aren’t even real to the average citizen anymore?  With opposition to the war at all-time highs, is this just another clever method of damage control and management of public opinion until the next election when it conveniently becomes someone else’s problem?          

I don’t know.  All I know is what I hear.  And it just doesn’t sit right with me.

–phoebe kate