They have come out of retirement in droves to sit at the right hand of television anchors and give us their professional opinions on how the war is or isn't going.

It's all part of television's addiction to the instant expert, dragged from some obscure corner to match TV's current infatuation with fact. It is not enough just to view the event. It is apparently also necessary to have instant analysis.

During the time of space addiction, for instance, astronomers and astrophysicists were hauled from college campuses around the nation to tell Walter Cronkite what was going on out there. During the Monica Lewinsky scandal, it was historians and experts in constitutional law. Now it's the war, and what better expert than a retired general or two?

Retired generals are usually nice guys—the only one I ever knew was at least. His name was Hammond Birks, and he was the chief of staff of the division in which I served in World War II. He bought my lunch once and we exchanged war stories, although I must say from a somewhat different point of view. I was a sergeant. He was a brigadier general. But I digress.

Listening to the generals talk is a little like listening to the commentators on Monday Night Football. The news anchor asks, "General Blank (or whatever his name is), thank you for being with us." The general says, "Thank you for having me," despite the fact that he is getting paid (and presumably handsomely) for his appearance.

"General," the anchor says, "can you give us your assessment of how the battle is going (or when it is going to be over or when the enemy will surrender or when the Third Division will reach the river ... or whatever)."

The general, who has been through a lot of briefings in his day, especially for superior officers, rattles off an ambiguous answer.

It's usually the equivalent of "Things are going according to plan," even if the general doesn't know much more about the plan than we do. No matter—it is reassuring to have a general tell us it is going well. If he doesn't know, who does?

When, however, the anchor asks how the troops are doing, the general usually replies, "They're doing just wonderfully" or "Fine."

That's like asking Regis Philbin whether Notre Dame will win its next game. Who would expect the general to have a bad word for any branch of the service, especially his own?

It doesn't seem to matter, though, in which branch of the service the generals served. Retired Air Force generals talk knowledgeably about infantry and armored tactics, ex-infantry generals know all about cruise missiles and stealth bombers, and Marine Corps generals can discourse on something other than amphibious landings.

Service unity may be better than it used to be, but it is hard to believe it is really that good.

But that's probably all right. A retired general in mufti looks about as unlike a general as does an infantry private. He is anonymous. It's not possible to tell where or with whom he served.

It's unfortunate that a retired general can't wear his uniform when he plays the role of instant expert. A general in civilian clothes looks less impressive than does one in uniform with his "fruit salad," the ribbons representing his various decorations spread across his chest.

But retired generals can only wear their uniforms on specific occasions, and certainly pointing to maps or looking at incoming television pictures in a television studio for pay is not one of them.

Most retired generals who make it to television look more like retired stockbrokers than they do military men. Stormin' Norman Schwarzkoff is an exception. This former commander of all the forces in the first Gulf War still appears every bit the general who finished up the war in a week. And he usually doesn't beat around the bush when giving his opinions.

The same can't be said for all the former generals who are temporarily TV stars. Some appear awkward with their props—usually maps of Iraq or the Middle East. Most hedge their predictions. For instance: "How much longer before the Third Division gets to Bhagdad, general?" "Well, assuming they are traveling at an average speed of five miles an hour and given that it is 360 miles to the capital, I would venture to say it will be a few more days ... "

So if you're looking for insight into Gulf War II, generally speaking (sorry, I couldn't avoid that pun), it's probably best to look elsewhere than to the retired military. The days of Hanson Baldwin, who once reigned supreme as the New York Times military expert, and of S.L.A. Marshall, who knew everything there was to know about infantry tactics, are behind us.

Warfare these days is a TV special, and the retired generals are just actors in its presentation. And once the war is over they can go back to playing golf and writing their memoirs just as the space age experts returned to their observatories and think tanks.

And television presumably will start looking for instant peace experts to quiz.