posted on Sep, 28 2021 @ 12:22 AM
Mama grabbed me and we sat on the hood of the car. It was an early crisp fall morning. Icy dew was on the beautiful trees.
It seemed like thousands of soldiers were lined up in the most impossibly perfect formation. Their bodies reminiscent of the way military gravestones
align at the cemetery. I heard a faint voice in the distance and then thousands of echoing responses. It’s a sound that can only be described as so
powerful it would be etched in time. Mama tells me “that’s your Daddy, do you hear him?” I nod as tears pour down my face. She wipes the tears
and tells me don’t cry, he’ll be back soon. Years pass and this same scene repeats over and over.
I’m a little older and dad drags me to work. Men in the barracks behaving badly. The next time it is a knife fight. My young eyes knew my dad must
be someone important as everyone has to stop and salute him. I didn’t care about rank, or patches or salutes, I just wanted my dad. The problem was
so did everyone else. Thousands of young men and women were his children too. I did not want to share. He was their teacher, their mentor, and for
some the only father figure they ever had.
Years pass, more medals, more patches, endless salutes, even coins with his name on them. Now there are drivers, pilots, secretaries, and important
people from all over the world. Decades pass in the blink of an eye. Dad tells me he is retiring because he can’t take the Army life anymore and his
body is too stiff. Soon his sickness starts to consume him. Hundreds of pills lined up like soldiers. More pills than anyone should take in a day but
the shaking still won’t stop. His body is now his worst enemy. The echoes of days gone by decay his mind as fast as the pill do his body.
I see this man laying in front of me, so fragile, so tiny, so broken. How could this be him? He had thousands of people that would follow his every
order, people that would die for him. His eyes could move people. When he took his last breath I wondered if all those people could feel it at that
moment. Did they remember a cadence? Did they remember the long marches and the sound the boots made hitting the ground? Did they remember the voice
that reverberated through time, space and memory? Did they remember…
edit on 28-9-2021 by JAGStorm because: (no reason given)