The American Military Man
Whether or not we agree with the proposed war with Iraq,
the troops deserve all the support we can give them.
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 155 mm Howitzers.
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 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.
Whether or not we agree with the proposed war with Iraq,
the troops deserve all the support we can give them.
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 155 mm Howitzers.
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 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.