The American Soldier
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 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 should have in his short
lifetime. He has
stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them. 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
we have woman 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....... "Lord,
hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless
them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time
of need. Amen." |