I woke up very early this morning, and doing my yoga, I had this intense wave of emotion wash over me. I was a military commander from long ago, vaguely Greek, awake at 3:30 and already mourning the coming victory. I could see the fires that would soon be lit on the horizon. I knew my men would soon be raping and killing. They would cut little children down where they stood, since they were of no use to them. The woman would be herded into back rooms by groups and never leave again. They would first kill, then rape, and then pillage.
And there was no stopping it. You cannot ask men to fight and die and suffer and then stop that tide. Not then. Not by me. Those crimes were the cost of preventing the same being done to my own homeland. If I had tried to stop them I would have been removed as commander and the crimes would still have happened.
But it was horrifying. Losing a war is the worst outcome. But winning one is the second. That was what I felt. As I say, it was powerful. I have a body which can take a lot. That electricity does not destroy me. As I keep saying, I don’t know why.