About Trench Warfare

Post 345:

            It’s The Great War, and maybe you’re in charge of a unit, a regiment, or an entire army. Battle is not the same anymore. The rulebook has been thrown out, because technology consistently undercuts every strategic option that’s been around since the beginning of civilization.

            You can’t just do your best and call it a day anymore. Even though it’s always been that way, nope. So what’s to be done?

            Really, the only thing that can be done: dig a hole and hide in it.

            A trench can be a pretty depressing thing to perceive. It’s cramped, there’s no comfort, no bathroom. It’s still loud everywhere, and just “doing your thing” and walking out isn’t exactly an option that will produce a long and fruitful existence.

            So you bide time, ass in the trench, surviving, until it’s time to throw it all on the line again and try to gain some ground.

            I’m pretty heavy-handed today with the metaphors, but I write what’s sticking to me. Right now, it’s the idea of being stuck.

            For the most part we’re all frauds and liars, but if people were honest they’d probably admit to feeling stuck a lot of the time, like staying put in a trench is the only viable option.

            Wait until the smoke clears. Until there’s an opening. Wait for the shooting to stop, hope for some quiet and a sliver of time to actually think. You can’t fight all the battles all the time. I’m sure Sun Tzu said something like that, but I refuse to read a book adopted by Wall Street traders and quoted by every TV show and movie ever.

            Plus, Sun Tzu could go home after the battle. The real world is more like the Great War. There is no home. There’s moving forward, and then the trenches.

            Don’t get me wrong. Life isn’t as bad as the most pointless and horrific conflict in human history—I get it. But it can seem that way. And seeming is believing, sometimes.

            And a little good news. For many that kept their wits and their luck, there was peace at the end. That’s what it’s all about. Breaking through the lines and feeling a quiet and comfort that’s so unlike the trench, you barely remember it. I hope that for you. I hope that for everyone. But remember—keep your damn head down sometimes. It’s hard to break through without a little humility and a shovel.

            Cheers. See you after.