OUR MILITARY MEN
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.
{On Internet - source not cited}