Duty, Honor, Country

There have been close friends who have voiced their concern over my departure for nine weeks this summer. They are concerned with the person who will return, what changes may be evident. Changes which may alter my personality, my persona, how I act. All I have been able to do is reassure them that I will return the same person, the same individual I left. I think a deeper question to many is why, why did I decide to enlist. Why become part of something whose sole purpose is the destruction of whatever stands in its path. I can relate to you one experience which solidified my desire to serve my country. 7th grade, the annual class trip to Washington, D.C. The "tourist" traps as some call it, the sites and monuments which litter our nation's capital. To identify them as tourist traps is somewhat of an injustice, I simply mean to say they are the sites where large crowds tend to congregate. We made our way to Arlington National Cemetery. Now if you haven't had the honor of visiting this site let me say that it is quite surreal. Silence, nothing but silence, you'd swear that the earth stops when entering this place. No traffic, automobile or airline noise make a significant impression on you. The bleached white headstones make the greatest impact. Arlington sits upon an area of gently rolling hills. Scanning the horizon it is all one does see, white headstones. Given the terrain, if you look through the cemetery at certain angles you can't make the distinction between each individual headstone. It becomes a sea of white, an eerie blanket which rests atop the surrounding green lawn which encircles Arlington.


It's hard to describe the feeling it evokes, trying to grasp the sacrifice and tremendous loss of life that has occurred throughout our nation's history. For whatever reason these brave men and women gave their lives. I just can't walk away from an experience such as this and sit idle. Not that refusing to enlist isn't within everyone's right, I just felt compelled to do what I could in their honor. Reflecting now on the nine weeks ahead of me. Everyone seems so consumed with my wellbeing, which I do appreciate, but I think their line of thought should encompass others. What about the other younger recruits who may have joined impulsively. What about these kids who don't know what they're about to go through and how it will effect them.


I believe I've come to the point in my life where an experience such as this will not tremendously effect the person who I have become. But what about the kids coming out of high school who are doing this. Who's looking after them. What if by my presence I can provide them with some type of encouragement and direction so that what we go through together won't destroy their personalities, who they have become. What if I can tell them of a person who made the ultimate sacrifice for us through my own actions. What if I can alleviate their worries and concerns and assure them that this trial is only temporary. What if by doing this I lose a part of who I am. A portion of the man I have become disappears, forever changed by the nine weeks at Fort Sill. If I come back a completely changed man but save the lives or souls of everyone in my platoon is it worth it? Is it worth the cost?


If it isn't then what is? What is the price of saving someone but in the process you may lose a bit of yourself, forever. You change for better or maybe for worse but what about everyone else? What if just by making the attempt, you instill a deeper understanding of what it means to be a believer. Is it worth the cost? I believe it is, but that's just who I am, your opinions may vary. I know I have no choice at this point. I have to go, I'm contractually obligated. But in my mind I'm going for so many more reasons. Other reasons I haven't explained. For now, I have to go. For those whose final resting place lie within the confines of Arlington National Cemetery and for the recruits I have yet to meet.

Promises, Promises, Promises

I've made many promises in my life. Promises to people who may or may not know I've made certain commitments which involve them. Not that it matters if they ever find out or realize the commitments I've made for them. I've made promises to people who are no longer living, complete strangers, friends and family members. These pledges are a means by which I maintain my connection with them in some sense. It is a way that I keep my desire to pursue paths through which I can show them how I care. I may never honor or reveal certain commitments because I will never be able fulfill some of them. There are some I hope to never fulfill. While I could explain this to a much greater extent, I won't. What I will do is explain the problems that arise from making such promises. It lies with the realization of those around me. The failure of certain people who don't understand my actions, they can't comprehend why I do things, and that my actions carry with them no return address. There is no exchange or barter system in place for the things that I do. I don't require excessive glorification for acts I may have performed just a simple acknowledgement will suffice. To simplify matters I can explain it through my enlistment with the Reserves. What is the purpose or the Reserves who are in place, the minutemen if you will. Their sole purpose is to answer the call of the olifant (The Song of Roland) to be there when no one else can. Not because they have to, but because they want to, they have made a commitment to care for the person standing next to them. People need to understand that at anytime, anyplace or anywhere just look around and realize that I'm already there, waiting for them.

Perfect Courage, Imperfect Faith

A potential title to a book I might one day write, given the time and substance (good stories to relate) I may have in upcoming years. I haven't decided quite yet. One thing I have decided on is that I require one thing in life to keep me motivated, alert, and ambitious. Conflict, some sort of opposition if you will. While this might not seem clear initially it might make sense by the end of my message so bear with me. Being opposed, by elements, people or places puts many people in situations where they might be uncomfortable, unable to function properly as a result of being thrown out of their "comfort zones." A loss of control, it could be sudden, gradual, or even blind side the most confident of individuals. But for me, this is what I crave to happen sometimes. A battle to be desired. The cliche of the undiscovered country, rather a dilemma which we have to face sooner or later. While some resort to denial, I feel this is the easy way out to many of life's difficult times. Why do we regress sometimes. Because we feel we can't take it. In retrospect I don't think I will be able to make it through life without some opposing force preventing me or at least providing me with a constant nuisance for the rest of my life. Achieving past these annoyances, troubles or hard times is an accomplishment to be cherished . Complacency is just so boring, we sulk into apathy and eventually depression. Been there, done that. Wasn't that what high school was for? Well at least for me, others may have a different perspective and/or experiences. A life in the trenches which tests our will, our determination, the graveyard shift janitor, the double shift waitress, the single working mother of 3, the full time paramedic part time student, the fireman who works two jobs to get by rushing into the burning highrise for the third time, the 19 year old soldier on his second tour of duty. Opposition, a world full of it, full of instances where we either prove what we are made of, or bow out to the next contender or opponent. No thanks, I need something to fight for, something to protect, this is what I need.