I bow to Greatness…
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 or welfare either.
He’s a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activity, 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, hip-hop or rap, country or jazz and can swing 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 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, 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 his rifle is always clean… 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 standing 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.
Thank you for your service, we do remember you.
And if not for your military service, for your respect and selfless acts performed for the country we love.
Happy Memorial Day.
Unk
Comments
13 Responses to “I bow to Greatness…”
Leave a Reply
-
Find It
-
Recently Written
-
Categories
-
Screenwriting Stuff
- Script Secrets
- Word Play
- Screenwriter's Utopia
- StoryLink
- Screenwriting Expo
- Celtx
- Cinergy
- Zhura
- Scripped
- Plotbot
- Script Buddy
- FreeThesaurus.net
- Mobysaurus
- Open Office
- Open Office Screenplay Template
- Abiword
- U.S. Copyright Form CO
- U.S. Copyright Form CO Instructions
- WGA West Registration
- WGA East Registration
- ScriptGirl
- Simply Scripts
-
Scribosphere
- $1000 Film
- 101
- A Place Called Say It Say It Say It
- Ann Wesley Hardin
- As Long As I Don’t Have To Leave My Apartment
- Bamboo Killers
- Between The Pavement And The Stars
- Bootstrap Productions
- Borderline Inappropriate
- Brook Brannon
- Burbanked
- Carlo Conda’s Blog
- DanielMedley.com
- Dreams of a Nobody
- Federal Income Tax Facts
- Fencing With The Fog
- Gravity
- Holy Embers Of Dreams
- If It Ain’t On The Page
- JoshuaJGreene.com
- Living The Romantic Comedy
- MichaelGorman.net
- My Excellent Adventures
- My Next One Will Be Better
- Mystery Man On Film
- Nicolle C. Jones
- On The Scene
- Our Man In Los Angeles
- Overheard Lines
- Paul Zadie
- Philosophy Of Screenwriting
- Pimped Fiction
- Planet Pooks
- Pro Screenplays
- Red Right Hand
- Revealing Of The Soul
- Rooneyverses
- Running Ahead Of Me
- Screamwriter
- Screenwriting Manifesto
- Script Notes
- Sex In A Sub
- Shouting Into The Wind
- Supergun Cinema SuperBlog
- The Moviequill
- The Poke Show
- The Scherer Joy Of Writing
- The Screenwriter’s League
- The Story Department
- The Unemployment Cafe
- The Word Demon
- Things They Won’t Tell You In Film School
- Think Virtue!
- Uninflected Images Juxtaposed
- WikiScreenplay
- Writer Joshua James
- Writing & Building
- Writing On Spec
-
Most Popular Posts
- Hit me with your best subplot...
- The Central Question Part 2
- The Central Question
- Spelling sound effects: Onomatopoeia
- British Feature Screenplay Competition
- Screenwriting Structure Part 14
- Is imagination natural talent?
- Subplots Screenwriting Structure Part 16
- Screenwriting structure Part 15
- I bow to Greatness...
-
Monthly Archives
- August 2008
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- March 2008
- February 2008
- January 2008
- December 2007
- November 2007
- October 2007
- September 2007
- August 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- May 2007
- April 2007
- March 2007
- February 2007
- January 2007
- December 2006
- November 2006
- October 2006
- September 2006
- August 2006
- July 2006
- June 2006
-
-
Amen to all that and then some.
Interesting… I’ve had 2 comments thus far from people with fake email addresses… I suspect they might have been from the same person. They took the time to tell me how fucked up our military is for being in Iraq.
I tried to send them both emails… To say, FUCK YOU. So in case you two come back here to see your comments… Again, I say to both of you: FUCK YOU.
I normally never delete comments but this time, before I did, I emailed both of these motherfuckers and told them that this particular post was simply my way of thanking our Military for Memorial Day.
Both emails bounced back.
If you want to debate why our Troops are over in Iraq, go do it somewhere else because I AIN’T approving your comment this time.
Unk
Josh stole my words. AMEN BROTHA!!!
To the two ding dongs… FUCK OFF!!!
Happy Memorial Day and thanks to all the military for all their hard work and sacrifice.
Great post.
I’m glad some people care that there are those that risk their lives in pursuit of something greater than themselves.
Unk,
Good stuff. Really.
From one vet to every other vet out there…
Thanks you and God bless.
Thank you. That was beautiful!
I’ve never been able to understand why people can’t tell the difference between the people who risk their lives and the people who form foreign policy.
I’ve no idea what it is to subject yourself to those kinds of personal hardships and risks, but that doesn’t stop me from having an admiration for what they do. Even when I don’t agree with the political objectives that placed them in harms way.
I’ve no problem with people who want to argue about a nations defense policies… but they should have the good grace to do that will the policy makers, not the people who do so much for so little in return.
UNK,
You are an eloquent writer and the above piece is very moving. Thanks for that.
I do not agree with the war in Iraq for a second, however, it is a shame to not support those who willfully risk their lives for a cause they believe in.
We don’t have to support the people who put them there, but we should always support them. They are our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers and sons. I support them diligently, to the point that I desire every one of them to come home.
Nicely done. I served almost 20 years ago (wow, it’s been a long time, I just hit the point where more than half my lifetime is as a “veteran”) and I’m really impressed by how well you caught the tension in what our soldiers (and sailors, marines, etc.) do. Thanks for remembering and reminding.
I, too, bow to greatness. That was brilliant.
A little belated response, but great post. Thank you for writing it. I just want to add in a note that Memorial Day is also about the families of soldiers.
My mother, for example, not only as a child had to deal with her father’s nervous breakdown that resulted in a large part from his experiences during WWII, but also as a young wife/mother with her husband going to Vietnam leaving behind not only her, but also a less than one year old baby. Then as a somewhat older mother, she had to deal with her son (me) going to Desert Storm, and then a dozen years later with her youngest daughter deploying to Iraq for 15 months in 2003/2004.
I come from a family of accidental soldiers who without ever having had military careers somehow ended up serving in almost every major conflict dating back to the revolutionary war.
There’s a letter my grandmother has dating from the Civil War written by one of our great-great-grandmothers (I’m not sure which generation) to her son describing her husband/his father, who was killed in leading a charge in one of the early battles. She took a trip to see him at some headquarters that was next to a river. She describes coming up behind him as he and some other officers stood around a barrel fire trying to get warm some early foggy morning. Another officer saw her approach and asked her husband, “What would you give to see your wife right this moment?” His response was, “Everything in the world.”
Three months later he was dead.
I am not an american, but I do feel american (have family there in LA and been there a lot) and I have to say these are moving words for me.
These are words of healthy ideaslism. Words of a bondage. Words that give you a sense of hope that in this world there are still people who will do the right things and people who appreciate that fact.
I read this post on memorial day and revisited it again today and can say that makes me remind of what is still going on down there.
I do by no means accept the treachery attempt to fake Iraq as a nuclear capable nation and thus relevant to attack but by all honesty I do feel for the ones who fight for freedom in the name of their country and fellow people. Not in their pain, but in my own personal. And thus I belive in the spirit that makes USA the greatest country in the world, despite the faults inhabiting its system.
On my right wrist I wear three rubber bands, each is a different color and each represents friends I’ve lost in war–the last just less than a year ago,
Four of us–Donnie, Ray-Ray, Mark, and me–all enlisted together a lifetime ago, each of us after Basic and AIT went off to different duty. I was the first to leave the Army after a helicopter crash left me with no other choice–it took more than a year before I could walk again. The other three continued on and we’d get together whenever we could. Donnie was the next to go, stabbed fatally in hand-to-hand combat a few years after I left the service. Two years ago it was Mark, who was admin officer and who was providing forward troops with replacement ammo and other supplies when his vehicle was ambushed and hit by an Iraqi IED. He left behind a young wife and two little girls. Ray-Ray got it just a couple of months ago, his advance unit asleep went the tent he was sleeping in got hit by a rocket blast. Ray-Ray left behind three kids (their mother having died five years ago from breast cancer)…
I’m reminded of the ending of the <i<Bridges of Toko Ri, a movie all four us watched and enjoyed as kids, where Lt Brubaker (William Holden) character says something along the lines of, “…you and your buddies fight because you’re here and have no other choice.”
And it’s true, soldiers fight not for government and policy, but for their life and those of their brother’s in arms.
I carry my brothers with me at all times, and I won’t ever forget them. I may or may not agree with the policy of a government which sent them in harms way, but I keep my love for them separate from my political beliefs.
Anyway, Unk, thanks for the kind words. Were my brothers here and not me, they’d say the same.