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.