I read a weblog called A View From a Broad. It’s written by a woman serving in Iraq. She calls herself ginmar and she writes with a lot of attitude, about all kinds of stuff.
Today she wrote a post about seeing the humanity in the Iraqi people, bouncing off memories of her own family. It’s a classic, and it’s heart-breaking.

This is such an ancient country. Parts of it along the rivers seem almost primeieval, with the ten foot rushes and the fan-shaped palm trees. You expect to see a dinosaur, especially at sunset, when the earth is black and the sky is gold. Long stretches of it are lush, and then abruptly it changes to dry sand and dust. Fields of garbage pass by the windows in multi-colored heaps, and there’s always a few stray dogs or people picking hopefully through them. …

Gradually, something else dawned on me, too. We were being waved at. I’m a waving fool. Hey, every little gesture. The kids always wave. But as we got further and further south, it was adults who lifted their hands first, and smiled. And what smiles! They smiled as if they were fond of us, as if we were old friends. Men, women, all the kids—it was like we were neighbors back from a visit that had kept us away too long. Young men, old men, women in full abbayas, women in chic outfits and without veils—-they all waved and smiled at us. When we smiled and waved back, it felt a little bit like euphoria. …

Every time I see a soldier here, I feel a brief burst of…what do you call it? Brotherhood? They’re a reminder of home, of shared struggle. Doesn’t matter if they’re Polish, Bulgarian, what have you. The Poles have taken some hits for us, and when I think of the Bulgarians, I think of their prime minister, a man who was so overcome by being inducted into NATO that he had tears streaming down his face. I won’t quote from Henvy V, but every time I see some soldier, I think, “Ah, somebody who understands what there is to bitch about.”

Yesterday I felt that pretty much for everyone. …

Read the whole thing. It’s inspiring.