I won’t rant. There are times when pain is too profound to even weep, but I admit that even this is not one of them.
I won’t go crazy about the idiotic announcement in the New York Times that contained additional unrelated ‘news’ s that turned the piece into one baffling and discordant jumble.
Nor will rattle on about the double-speak military spokesman Lt. Col. Stewart Upton was quoted as gurgling, or the chain of communication that led to a promise of ‘an apology’.
This is the time of the Taliban spring offensive, and someone called in some Taliban threats, some helicopters apparently responded. Maybe. Or were they drones? Accounts differ; it’s war, after all, and very foggy.
What we do seem to know is that ‘a mistake’ was made; one in which a bomb or bombs hit the ‘wrong house’ again, and a woman and five children were killed. Three girls and two boys.
We don’t know their ages, or what they loved to do in life, what they feared. Did the boys help tend the family sheep and goats up in the hills? Did they want to learn soccer and dream of becoming national heroes one day? Was their father still living, and did he tell them stories at night before they slept? Tales of cunning animals or legends of great bravery about their kinsmen?