Over at “Eject, Eject, Eject” there is a nice essay that you should go read. Take a look.
When I was a little kid, I asked my dad about an image I had seen of really huge numbers of prisoners being marched to their execution in a forest clearing, guarded by perhaps five or ten men with rifles. I wanted to know why they didn’t just rush the guards. I mean, it’s one thing if they were heading to another miserable day at work camp, but these people were being led off to be killed, and they knew it. I mean, for God’s sake, what did they have to lose?
I was six. My dad looked at me. He had served in the latter days of WW2 in Europe as a U.S. Army intelligence officer. No parachuting onto the decks of enemy U-Boats at night to steal Enigma machines — just unexceptional, unheroic, 2nd Lieutenant grunt work. He’d been to the camps though, seen some horrible things. When I asked him why they didn’t fight back or run for the woods, he said, without any arrogance or contempt or jingoism, “I don’t know Billy, I can’t figure that one out myself.” Then there was a long moment. “But I can’t imagine Americans just walking off like that, either.”
Go read the rest. Then, archive this one, and reread it as necessary. Personally, I think Independence Day is a good day to do that.