Pride? Duty? The corrupted sense of these?
The rigid structure of these establishments can be a life saver for some, I'd guess. Marshall's clear directives comforting during an age of total uncertainty-- late teens, early twenties.
Then there's the hype, media and otherwise, the powerful myth spurred, spun through a materially comfortable Nation's eyes, that our 'democracy' is on their side.
Are we teaching these men and women how to fish, how to help other cultures eat? Or using them as bait? For what? For whose true gain?
Fueled by the pretense of eliminating world, desert-state hate... with... kill kill kill?
Does 'eliminate' take care of providing it's opposite? No, I don't think so... But is that the point, really? To fill the gaps new power blasts in the mountains of old, desert real estate a kind of gold, modern warfare a new form of laundering, perhaps. Oh, whoa I digress..........
What even goes on over there?
I bet they're much like 'us' somedays, waiting around for the other shoe to drop, checkin their MySpace on the reserve base, happy to see a friend's face.
Anyway, that was brought on by this, another forward, no less.
But I'll ask, What Does This Mean:
1/2 boy 1/2 man
The average age of the military man is 19 years.
He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who,
under normal circumstances is considered by
society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's, but he has never collected unemployment either.
He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and a 155mm howitzer.
He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he
was at home because he is working or fighting
from before dawn to well after dusk. He has
trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.
He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.
He can march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march.
He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient.
He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.
He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts.
If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.
He has learned to use his hands like weapons
and weapons like they were his hands.
He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.
He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay, and still find ironic humor in it all.
He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.
He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed..
He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away ' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking.
In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.
Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.
He has asked nothing in return, except
our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.
And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.
As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot...
A short lull, a little shade and a picture of
loved ones in their helmets.
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