OUR MILITARY
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 155 mm 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 then
he 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 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.