In The Wizard of Oz, when the house dropped on the Wicked Witch, it killed her, didn't it? But when bombs and some two dozen missiles drop on Saddam Hussein's bunker, it only injures him?

I'm as bewildered as the time travelers in a science fiction novel written by Rabbi Philip Graubart of Congregation Beth El. In Planet of the Jews, the time travelers decided they needed to go back in time to prevent the Holocaust from happening on Earth. So they assassinated Hitler, convincingly— several times, in fact— but he just kept coming back.

There's a saying we heard at Purim, that in every generation another Haman rises to afflict us. Haman, Hitler, Hussein Maybe he does come back.

As I flit from the broadcast networks to the cable networks, watching this war unfold, I am puzzled. I hear solemn assurances that it is appropriate for the United States to begin the war by dropping all those bombs on Saddam and his family, in an effort to "decapitate" the head of Iraq from the body of its military.

On the other hand, I hear outrage over Iraq's treatment of American soldiers. In one instance, apparently, Iraqi soldiers waved a white flag indicating surrender, then opened fire on the too-trusting American soldiers. In another case, Iraq videotaped scared, captured American
soldiers being interrogated. Iraq also broadcast pictures of dead American soldiers. Our American government told us that these are cold, heartless tactics, violations of the Geneva Conventions, unworthy of a civilized people. I agree with that characterization.

But the American bombing, the "shock and awe" campaign, also seems to me too terrible to be done in the name of civilization. Although the military assures us that the targets have been chosen with a surgeon's precision, and that collateral damage— that is, civilian deaths— will be minimized, I can't help but be skeptical. The United States and Britain have been killing
their own soldiers in this war at an alarming rate in "friendly fire" incidents; how can they believe that their "hostile fire" will be better aimed? The bombing probably has killed many people whose only crime was to be born in a country ruled by a vicious dictator.

A reporter, far more cynical than most of his colleagues, recently asked military briefers at the Pentagon whether there would be another Baghdad bombing "show" that evening. Victoria Clarke, the Pentagon spokeswoman, set him straight. War is not a "show"; it is a deadly serious business, she lectured sternly. I wanted to cheer her.

And yet, have we seen sufficient reverence for life from anyone involved?

The media are in love with their "real-time" broadcasting technologies, as impressed with their wonderful view of the carnage as spectators at the Roman Coliseum might have been with front-row seats close to where slaves and prisoners were torn apart by the lions.

It's all so horrible, and yet for a while each day I sit before the television mesmerized. Thank goodness my 2-year-old grandson, Shor, frequently visits. I don't want him to see the images of bombs being dropped, guns being shot, people being killed, and so I try to remember to
switch the television to videos and put on Teletubbies, The Wiggles or Barney. All three really are far more uplifting.

However, when he is taking a nap, or has been picked up by his parents, I turn on the news again, and find that I really hadn't missed that much since I last switched the television off. A day's developments can be recapped in a few minutes, without brain-busting visual bombs breaking through the bunker of my brain.

For all my squeamishness about this war, I don¹t share the protesters' view that President George W. Bush is acting for nefarious reasons. I believe our President really wants to liberate the Iraqi people, eliminate weapons of mass destruction and fight international terror. I'm heartened that he has commanded that emergency relief supplies for the Iraqi people follow in the wake of U.S. troops.

I share everyone¹s hope, on both sides of the conflict, that this war will be over soon, and that it will not have been in vain.