Saw a wee story on the news tonight—a young lass was killed at an Israeli checkpoint.

Pulled a knife, they said, and the soldiers shot her. They claim they fired a warning first, but who really knows?

It’s not even been a week since I got back from my first trip to the Falklands in 30 years. Last time I was there, somebody shot me—feels like a lifetime ago now.

I suppose what got to me about that lass was how it reminded me of that night I got shot. It’s war, aye, but war doesn’t give second chances.

Those soldiers, they’re always on edge, twitchin’ at every shadow. But still, what kind of threat was this lass with a knife, eh?

Then again, I’ve been in their boots. You’re standin’ there, nerves taut as a wire, thinkin’ every second could be your last. It’s quick decisions, and sometimes you get it wrong.

But does that make it right? Their response?

I think one of them tried to shoot her in the leg, but the others shot her after that—four of them.

Seems to me the only answer they have down there is bigger guns and more soldiers.

I’d like to say a word or two about that … to someone.

My daughter wrangled me into usin’ the Facebook, and I’ve even connected with former … you know, like Pablo. So it’s fine.

So I thought about writin’ about this news in one of those groups on Facebook. I’m a member of the vet group, but other military groups, too.

But I’m thinkin’ also, what’s the point of writin’ what you think about … somethin’?

Maybe I’m just too long in the tooth for all that now.

I’ve been in war, aye, but does my opinion matter anymore?

There’s folk out there on both sides who’d justify killin’ no matter what.

Folk who want to do it with a knife, aye, but maybe it’s nae the choice of weapons but the attitude. It’s bad on both sides.

One side just happens to have bigger guns. Shouldn’t they be more responsible?

Nah. My opinion does nae matter one bit, does it?

Sheila’s out shoppin’, and when she gets back, we’ll likely just sit down and watch a film.

Maybe I’ll write to my daughter later, see how things are goin’ with her and the family.

But I won’t start a fight with faceless people on the Facebook.

But I do wonder—does keepin’ quiet make me a coward? Shouldn’t I say somethin’ when I hear about such injustice?

Maybe it’s just age, or maybe I’ve just had enough of all this. The world’s a mess, and with the internet, you can see it all day long if you like. It wears ye down.

I could say what I thought about a thousand things all day long, and what? Then it’d be more honest to go out in the world and do somethin’, like Caroline’s brother-in-law.

The Falklands …

Wasn’t about defendin’ anythin’ important in the end, just led to more death. I mean, it’s no’ fair to the islanders, but were those rocks worth 1,000 people gettin’ killed?

And here we are again, a different place, but the same story.

Maybe one day they’ll figure it out, but I think the first step is for those with the biggest guns not always to use them, even if it’s tempting.

For safety. For justice. For revenge. All kinds o’ reasons. Some good. Some bad.

All leading to more war.

Is it possible? I don’t know. But it’s what they need to do.

One side needs to take the first step. Might as well be the stronger.

But who cares?

After all, this is just one man’s opinion.

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CALUM MCDONNELL, Carrie´s father, 19 Oct 2016.

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Cover photo by Levi Meir Clancy Unsplash+ license.

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