It was Thanksgiving Eve and the president was trying to relax at his ranch in Crawford, but there was no peace to be found, not while Saddam was still at large. Can-do George decided on that day that eight months was too long for the single greatest threat to life, liberty and sweet baby Jesus to remain at large. He was going to take matters into his own capable hands, regardless of what Dick Cheney said.
So the president ordered Air Force One ready to fly -- he was going on a little recon mission. Under the guise of "going to serve our brave boys some turkey," the president mustered up his old Texas Air National Guard skills. Once over the killing fields of Iraq, Bush took the controls of the seven-four-seven and, imagining he was Major Kong flying Wing Attack Plan R in Dr. Strangelove, flew lo-o-o-w and slo-o-o-w, looking for Saddam. It was like he was back home with his brother Jeb, hunting Mexican border jumpers. And sure enough, Bush's keen eye spotted a number of sites others had overlooked. Photo-op turkey never tasted so good later that Thanksgiving day. And the rest is history.
For his part, the man who claimed that he'd never be taken alive by the Americans; who promised to go down fighting; and who had a couple of loaded AK-47s close at hand and a pistol on his lap, surrendered like a coward, particularly when compared to his sons. The closest Saddam came to fighting back was refusing to look for his shadow when he emerged from his hole, thus denying US military intelligence a hint as to whether there would be six more weeks of war or not.
While we score a moral victory for America, the cost of the means to achieve that end continues to mount. Having no viable Iraqi government to turn Saddam over to will likely add to Bush's post-party hangover. But, for what it's worth, Bush did get his man.