HALF MAN/HALF BOY – HALF GIRL.HALF/WOMAN
every now and then I recieve a E-maill I feel is worth sending on and more so than just forwarding on E-mail, I want to expose more on my blog. This is the start of the Memoral Day weekend and this is one I feel is apporate for all to see. As you know if you are a regular reader I am a patroicotic old cuss, and a supporter of our millitary people. Being a NO LOAD MARINE (no longer on active duty) of fifty years now, I am always looking for something about our service people to pass on. I know that not all of our troops are kids, but many are, Including my grandson PFC Jeremy —– USMC, soon to be active. So please read the following, and enjoy, which I recieved and my daughter posted for me:
If you read this, you WILL want to forward it on — You just won’t be able to stop yourself.
The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father’s, but he has never collected unemployment either.
He’s a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and a 155mm howitzer.
He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.
He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.
He can march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march.
He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient.
He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other.
He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.
He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts.
If you’re thirsty, he’ll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food.
He’ll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.
He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands.
He can save your life – or take it, because that is his job.
He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay, and still find ironic humor in it all.
He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.
He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.
He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to ‘square-away’ those around him who haven’t bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking.
In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.
Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.
He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.
And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.
As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot
A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets.
Prayer wheel for our military… please don’t break it
Please send this on after a short prayer.
“Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us.Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need; Amen”
When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our ground troops in Afghanistan, sailors on ships, and airmen in the air, and for those in Iraq…
There is nothing attached…
This can be very powerful…….Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Sailor, Coastguardsman, Marine, or Airman, prayer is the very best one.I can’t break this one, sorry. Pass it on to everyone and pray.
You will notice in the first photo the trooper is carrying the linked ammo for the squads automatic weapons draped around his neck, this is easier than carrying it in the ammo can but can be rough on the neck. In the third photo they are loading the magazines for their rifles, with what is called ten round stripper clips. And the sleeping girls look like they should be primping for the prom.
let us remember these kids as we are Bar-B-Q’ing, or watching Old WWII movies, the war dead on this Memorial Day. Let us remember the ones serving now, and the wounded from this war and the ones from the past wars also.
You can send a card to thanks, and cheer up a wounded service member at,
MARINRE, SALIOR,AIR MAN (YOUR CHOICE)
NATIONAL NAVAL MEDICAL HOSPITAL
8901 ROCKVILLE PIKE
WALTER REED ARMY HOSPITAL HOSPITAL
6900 GEORGE AVE. N.W.
WASHINGTON, D.C. ,20307
Pick the service member of your choice, send a card or letter just seal the envelope with a small peice of tape incase they feel the need to inspect the contents to insure that it does not contain some crap that would be detremental to the morale of a serviceman. It is sad to say that some people do send hatefull stuff to these brave people. Any thanks is apprecated by our service people.
GOD BLESS, AND KEEP
OUR YOUNG PEOPLE IN THE SERVICE
AND BRING THEM HOME SAFE
AND MAY YOU BE BLESSED AND KEPT SAFE
ON THIS HOLIDAY
thanks for riding along on this ramble