I come across this. I have no idea who wrote this. I just wanted to share.



Military Man



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 155mm

Howitzers. 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 forgets 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 then he should

have in his short lifetime. He has stood atop

mountains of dead bodies, and

helped to create them. 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.



"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."