The
Perimeter
by James R. Larson
The
Perimeter, in the infantry, is a circle of men. It is half a squad, platoon
or company. One half is on guard, staying vigilant, watching for the
enemy, while the other half rests, sleeps and carries on with life as it
is.
They
are more than just men, they are a brotherhood in uniform.
They
share their plans, dreams and hopes with each other. In hard times, they
share their sadness, fears and pain. They face the enemy together, some
like brothers, others like fathers and sons, and always as true friends.
They
find a spirit in each other than binds them to one another in a bond that
lasts forever.
As
time passes, they will leave the service and each other. They will travel
many different paths of life, some to prosper well and others not so
well.
Somewhere
in life's travels, these men find themselves lost in the world, confused,
dazed, scared, unhappy and searching for something; something they
are not even sure exists. They are not soldiers anymore, they are called
veterans.
Somehow,
in their search, they once again find others like themselves. They
find brothers of the past, brothers of the Perimeter, that circle of safety,
where someone else shares their pain, their confusion and their fear.
That Perimeter where that fear is eased, where there is less confusion.
They
share each other's pain in stories, in tears and in silence. Inside the
Perimeter, eye contact can say it all. This Perimeter is a circle of life
and a circle of death; it is a circle of wounded warriors, with wounds
of both flesh and spirit. This Perimeter is a circle of iron that has
never broken. It is a circle of common duty that knows no color, no creed
and no religious ground. The circle will last forever, through the best
of times and the worst of times.
The
Perimeter is a place warriors will always seek - even for eternity. Just
gaze out at our national cemeteries. For out there, on the outer edge,
ever so vigilant, are those on the Perimeter.