The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a
short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances 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 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 support, friendship and
understanding. Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and
admiration with his blood. For our Military. Prayer wheel for our
military...please doesn't break it. Please send this on after a short prayer.
Prayer Wheel "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." Prayer Wheel: When you receive this, please
stop for a moment and say a prayer for our ground troops in Iraq, Kuwait and
Afghanistan, sailors on ships, and airmen in the air. There is nothing
attached.... This can be very powerful.... Just send this to all the people in
your address book. Do not stop the wheel please.... Of all the gifts you could
give a US Soldier, Sailor, Marine or Airman, prayer is the very best one. This
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