RadioBanter - View Single Post

November 12th 04, 12:37 PM

(Hans K0HB) wrote:
I now know why men who have been to war yearn to reunite. Not to
tell stories or look at old pictures. Not to laugh or weep.
Comrades gather because they long to be with the men who once acted
their best, men who suffered and sacrificed, who were stripped raw,
right down to their humanity.

I did not pick these men. They were delivered by fate and the
Military. But I know them in a way I know no other men. I have
never given anyone such trust. They were willing to guard something
more precious than my life. They would have carried my reputation,
the memory of me. It was part of the bargain we all made, the
reason we were so willing to die for one another.

I cannot say where we are headed. Ours are not perfect friendships;
those are the province of legend and myth. A few of my comrades
drift far from me now, sending back only occasional word. I know
that one day even these could fall to silence. Some of the men will
stay close, a couple, perhaps, always at hand.

As long as I have memory, I will think of them all, every day. I am
sure that when I leave this world, my last thought will be of my
family and my comrades.....such good men.

- - -
from "These Good Men" by Michael Norman

Very good. Here's another but I can't credit the author..dunno who it is.
------------------------------------------------------------------
It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the
press.

It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom
to demonstrate.

It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and
whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the
flag.

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run
out of fuel.

He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic
scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't
come back AT ALL.

He is the Quantico drill instructor that has never seen combat - but has
saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang
members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals
with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass
him by.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with
them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and
aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes
all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the
nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being a person who
offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his
country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to
sacrifice theirs.

He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is
nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest,
greatest nation ever known.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just
lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most
cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or
were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU".