Wow, big news, our boys in Afghanistan are buying drugs. Why, you know, they may even be USING THEM.
No shit. Why else would they buy them? Besides having first-class opium available cheap, Afghani pot is pretty famous too, not to mention the hashish the locals make up. They get naked except for shoes and run through the ripe female plants wearing leather aprons. The goo from the pot plants gets all over the aprons and then they scrape it off, mix it with male pollen to give it body, form it into little cakes and sell it to buy baby new shoes.
Just like Vietnam. Exact same deal, same situation, the only real difference is this time the generals are watching their asses more closely, no more inflated body counts or wiping out whole villages. They can’t get away with making necklaces out of ears anymore, or throwing enemy combatants out of helicopters. (You take 3 of them, go way up, throw out the first two without a word, then grab the third one and say “Talk or out you go”. The guy tells all he knows, then they throw him out.
But no more. All that good fun has come to an end. At least they can get high on patrol and in between sorties, so what the hell, war isn’t all bad. Right?
What did people expect? I mean really. You send a bunch of young, party-age guys into a backwards country where the primary industry is growing drugs, and subject them to intense and unrelenting stress, and of course they’re going to use drugs. After all, liquor is sorely limited and the strongest thing most of them can get is usually beer if they’re lucky, and they have to keep that hidden because it’s a Muslim country and alcohol is forbidden.
When the Vietnam War that Nixon declared to be officially an “Era” (God, what an ass) because it had never been officially declared a war, finally ended and what was left of our boys came home, we suddenly had a whole bunch of really shell-shocked heroin addicts roaming the streets. These guys went and lived in the woods or formed militias in remote areas, or went berserk, got locked up in looney bins and never got out, or just generally fucked up our society because we’d fucked them up so bad.
SO! Guess what treat America is in for when Johnny comes marching home? It’s gonna be another Yogi Berra moment, deja vu all over again.