I just got back from the Memorial for three 7th Group, Special Forces guys over on the SOTF compound adjacent to ours. Lots of thoughts and emotion running through my head. I didn’t know these guys personally, but as a Soldier and a leader I knew of them. I know what is going on back home, with their families and SGT Judin’s from C, 4-73 CAV.
The memorials don’t get any easier. How many people can listen/ sing the national anthem and not understand that Francis Scott Key was describing a battle? That while the rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air, guys were out there fighting and dying in the night. That was the proof through the night. And yes it waves o’re the home of the brave, but that night bodies were being shredded and piled up on the ramparts to make it so. The next day there was probably a memorial just like the one we did today.
I’m sure that one day the balance between the love of this job and the enjoyment of the fire fig hts and adrenaline rush of contact, along with the satisfaction of leading young troops and the pain and loss at these memorials will change. It’s always an emotional struggle. I can feel CSM Cooke, and Jimbo there. I choke up when they mention the wives and young children. I think of Jim’s kids, of Tutten’s daughter and son. And I wonder as usual, was this war, the support of a corrupt and backwards government, really worth those lives? How many more times can I listen to the bag pipers play Amazing Grace, or Toby Keith sing American Soldier? I hope all of this is somehow making me a better person.
Days like this weigh heavy on a Soldier’s soul. In January I’ll have three years of Combat Operations behind me and untold years ahead. Several of my friends have sons in the Cavalry unit here, 4-73. One of them is a platoon sergeant in A Troop and his Son is a PFC in B troop. We are not a nation at war; we are a family, a very small, very proud, very brave little family at war. AT times, I am sure a very scared family.
I don’t think Americans realize this or even care.
It was a nice ceremony. I f eel for the families and teammates of these guys. Listening to them choke up and give into the emotions that overcame them as they read their remarks, trying to encompass years of friendship, duty and bravery into mere words is tough. In the military we still pray to a God, we ask him to watch over us, and to care for the Souls of those of us lost in combat. We who kill and die, who understand that we need forgiveness for sins that average Americans don’t carry ask his forgiveness and divine intervention. I think if the ACLU went to war there’d be less talk about school prayer, or if more parents understood the hand of God is a fickle thing, they wouldn’t be so fast to sue about it.
I think this is the part where I go smoke a cigar and everyone knows to leave me alone for a while.