Soldier Boy

When I was little, I was really fascinated by the military.

I loved tanks, planes, helicopters, submarines, aircraft carriers, machine guns, cannons, bombs.

One of my favorite authors was Tom Clancy.

Another was Leonard B. Scott.

Then I realized what all the equipment was meant to do.

My interest diminished.

And then I enlisted.

My interest vanished totally.

I swore I would never pull on a set of Number 4 willingly for the rest of my life.

Then I ORDed.

I worked.

I quit my job to start studying.

I experienced how the world is.

Now, part of me yearns to be re-enlisted.

It's insane.

But the world's even more insane.

The military's cruel.

But the world's even more so.

The military's unfair.

But the world's scales are even more skewed.

Of course, I could be looking at my days in the military through rose tinted glasses.

With a healthy dose of nostalgia brought on by reading war books.

Swofford's Jarhead. Ambrose's Band of Brothers.

In the real world, you never know who you can trust.

In the military, it's the guy next to you, covering your ass because you're covering his.

Because you have no one else but each other.

It's the guy on your other side putting his ass on the line so that you can take yours off the line.

It's the guy pulling an extra duty so that you can go for your Birthday off.

In the military, it's as the song goes.

My rifle, my buddy and meeeeeeeeeeee.



I miss A2.

posted by CompulsiveShopper @ 5:23 AM