posted on Jun, 19 2009 @ 08:44 PM
I still remember the day my hero came home; a flag draped coffin, which we found out later, contained nothing more than his boots and partial legs,
plus his dog tags (sand bags added to match his body weight). As I held the glove at his funeral he had left in our room the night my ‘superman’
helicopter pilot stepbrother had played his last game of cards with me (He always made me draw a card for whatever tomfoolery he wanted to involve me
in), before he left at 0530 hrs the next morning for his second tour in Vietnam, I could still remember his excuses for his fellow American’s
throwing bags of dog excrement and jars of red paint on returning soldiers; I could still remember his fierce pride as he stated: “Duty is not based
on what others think, duty is what we owe for freedom.” I never forgot that; I never for got his forgiveness of the redhead who threw such horrors
on MY hero, and I never forgot that is the moment he decided to enter the officers training program.
Duty and honor, courage and fidelity; concepts foreign to the vast majority of Americans, but burned with the firebrands of hell into the souls of
combat soldiers, veterans. Who are we? We are your brothers, sisters, mothers and dads, we are you neighbors, friends and the cripple you stare at in
public, and we are you.
We are nothing more than a reflection of the nation that sent us, we are those you call on to do what you cannot imagine and depend on not to fail. We
are the shield you have your Sunday church picnics under, we are the sword that is sent to defeat dictators and evil throughout the world, we are
those who stand in a hail of bullets and refuse to be moved because we remember that freedom is not free. We are American fighting men and women, the
blood we shed, we shed for you.
[edit on 6/19/2009 by SGTChas]