Restrepo

  I'd had Restrepo in the Netflix queue for a long time.  It's not one of those movies you sit down and watch on a casual Tuesday evening when you're hoping to relax.  On Wednesday night, Rachel and I watched Shaun of the Sheep.  Restrepo is a big step away from claymation.  But with all the recent news of war echoing across the world, between Tim Hetherington's death in Libya, one of the two men who filmed Restrepo, and with Osama Bin Laden having been killed last Monday, I thought it was due time I watched Restrepo.

  Restrepo is a documentary about an outpost in the Korengal valley in Afghanistan, named after one of the men who was killed early in the tour.  The outpost they establish in the valley is named after Doc Restrepo, and the film is about the lives of the men who fight their way around the valley, under constant attack in a foreign land, far from home.

  It's a movie that's hard to describe.  It's well done, in that it captures the men at rest and in war.  It highlights the tedium of waiting and the fear and terror of the attack.  I think, more than anything, it captures the challenge of this war.  I can't imagine what those soldiers go through, how they stay motivated to fight these battles so far from home, how they deal with the immense complexities and manage to stay focused to stay sane.

  And then the country expects them to come home and simply resume where they left off, pretending that this was just another episode in their normal lives, like they're supposed to forget everything they've seen and just fit right back into society.

  This documentary is hard to watch.  There are some funny moments, but I constantly worried for their lives.  I can't imagine being out on patrol, filled with the knowledge that the enemy may attack at any time.  I don't know how they do it.

  Restrepo renews my appreciation for the sacrifices the Armed Forces make.  I am grateful that they do what they do in the hopes of making this world a safer place.  They are sent around the globe, to places I've never heard of and can't pronounce, and they're expected to do everything right, every day, with people they can't see shooting at them.  I am grateful for their sacrifice & for the sacrifice of their families.

  And I hope and pray they can all come home safely.