Yet another precious storyline about our troops. They are loved and appreciated by me and my family so very much. This is one way to express my sincerest gratitude for their service.
And, to bring home how accurate this is, let me tell you what happened while we were at the PX (Post Exchange) at Fort Lewis last year: We were out shopping one afternoon at our PX. As we were walking into the store we passed a young man who had lost the lower half of his left leg. I can still see how young this soldier was. The cost of war hit me like a ton of bricks at that moment. We often see on the news the price our men and women pay, but rarely do we see it in person and on someone so young. But what made things even more horrendous was the fact that my usually loving son, M, pointed at him and laughed. Tears instantly streamed down my cheeks as I angrily turned M towards me as I hissed with pure fury, "That man is a soldier and he lost his leg protecting us! DON'T YOU EVER LAUGH AT A SOLDIER AGAIN!" I attempted to calm down, though anger still seethed from my poors, as I explained that Daddy would be going to war soon and that he could come home missing an arm or a leg just like that soldier did and that we need to respect and thank those very special soldiers who have literally sacrificed so much of themselves. M was instantly contrite and immediately began crying as he looked with sympathy over his shoulder whispering a simple, but precious, apology. M nor I will ever forget that moment. In fact, any time he sees a young man with an injury he asks if he, too, got hurt in war. I'm glad he remembers how much these precious men and women mean to our family, though I can't help but cry at the loss of so many young men and women... They gave their lives willingly for mine and I will never forget them!
1/2 boy 1/2 man
If you read this, you WILL forward it on. You just won't be able to stop yourself.
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.
Prayer wheel for our military... please don't break it Please send this on after a short prayer.
'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.'
When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our ground troops in Afghanistan , sailors on ships, and airmen in the air, and for those in Iraq, Afghanistan and all foreign countries.
Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Sailor, Coastguardsman, Marine, or Airman, prayer is the very best one. I can't break this one, sorry. Pass it on to everyone and pray.
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7 years ago