The crux of the Iraq War debate has never been about whether we'd like to see that country operating as a peaceful democracy. Of course we would.

The argument first involved whether the United States was justified, even compelled, to invade Iraq to head off a perceived threat from Saddam Hussein's arsenal. Suffice it to say that President Bush's decision to wage war preemptively -- which he later couched as an effort to turn Iraq into a democratic beacon in a rough neighborhood -- now looks to have been rash.

Stay-the-course proponents these days maintain that the consequences of quitting the scene before the Iraqi government can keep a lid on things would be unacceptable, not only to Iraqis facing the horrors of a full-blown civil war but to us as well, given that terrorists of the al-Qaeda variety might fill the vacuum we'd left.

War critics -- none of whom wish for those dire outcomes, certainly -- focus instead on the costs of trying to ensure against them. Or on whether ensuring against them through the exercise of American military force is even feasible .

When the subject of costs arises, we have all the more reason to remember Lee C. Wilson of Chapel Hill.

A 30-year-old sergeant with the 1st Cavalry Division, Wilson died a few days ago when an IED blew up near his vehicle on patrol in the city of Mosul. Two other soldiers also were killed as the American fatality toll in Iraq continued climbing toward 3,800. What was striking -- shocking, really -- in Wilson's case was that he was on his fourth tour in the war zone.

When you sign up for the military, you ought to be cognizant that you risk being sent where bullets fly and bombs explode. But how can we ask (order) our soldiers to put themselves on the line in a war of this sort not for just one tour of duty or two, but four? How many times can we send them through the shooting gallery, wondering how long their luck could possibly hold?

The outrageous burden we've placed on men like Sgt. Christian Wilson, as he was known, illuminates with a blinding glare the lack of shared sacrifice that has characterized this war.

We might, of course, have some troops in our proud and accomplished volunteer Army who would gladly stay in Iraq "for the duration," as they used to say in wars when it was clear what victory would amount to, and what would be the price of defeat.

But the supposition has to be that while they willingly do their dangerous duty, most of our servicemen and servicewomen posted to Iraq would just as soon not monopolize the chance to win a Purple Heart or a hero's burial at Arlington.

Wilson's father, Lee E. Wilson, told The N&O that his son was looking forward to getting out of the Army and that as for Iraq, "He didn't want to be there." After four tours -- he went over last October and was due home in December -- can you blame him? He was a brave patriot who had done his share.

Bush's latest strategy bows to the fact of the war's unpopularity, as well as to the strains on the Army and Marines, with modest force reductions in the coming months that would reverse the current surge.

But his approach also envisions a long-term commitment of tens of thousands of troops, in what is almost certain to remain a hostile environment. Will we have to read about another cavalry scout killed on his fourth tour, or his sixth? If the only way to avoid these perpetual redeployments is to leave the service, how will we be able to retain a corps of experienced, career officers and NCOs?

Then there's the question of why such a sustained commitment is necessary. It may wind up giving the Iraqis -- plagued with both terrorism and a bloody sectarian power struggle -- time enough to achieve their elusive reconciliation and mount an effective security force. But not even the president can offer much more than hope in that regard, despite a few encouraging signs.

No, Bush's strategy amounts to a big-time poker play. With war critics clamoring for withdrawal, he has pushed his pile of chips -- a long-term U.S. military presence in Iraq -- into the middle of the table and dared the critics to call his hand.

Even with several Republican senators (Elizabeth Dole obviously among them) nervous at the thought of the heat they're likely to catch from fed-up voters, Bush believes he can prevent the Democratic-controlled Congress from forcing a faster pullout. Americans may not like the war, but competitive creatures that they are, neither do they like to lose.

So the next president, if he or she is elected on an anti-war platform, can be the one to risk the chaos of getting us unstuck from Iraq. Or to make the painful decision to stay the course after all, waiting and hoping for the best. By then it won't be Bush's worry -- although it might be the worry of a soldier embarked on the latest of his multiple tours, or of those who pray for that soldier's safe return.