Any Soldier

I’m breaking a few of my own rules today. For one, I originally thought I’d post something silly today since yesterday’s post was a little on the heavy side. I don’t like to write heavy posts back to back. It’s depressing. Secondly, I thought I’d never use my blog to promote anything more than someone else’s cool post. As I pushed the garbage can down the driveway last night a helicopter flew over my house and it reminded me of something I said I would do. Forgive me; I’ll try to be silly tomorrow.

Last night I visited a website, anysoldier.com . I scrolled through the list of recent posts for needed items and came across one from a Marine Unit on its second tour. They had already received several care packages and the contact person had posted a thank you for the support. It was the last few lines of his post that caught my eye….

“There are several Marines out here who are barely out of high school – please
pray for their mothers, I know they are worried sick.”

I couldn’t stop the tears as they rolled down my face. I thought about being in a foreign country at 18 years old not for spring break with sand between my toes and a beer in my hand but for something terrifying and surreal. My mind couldn’t process it. I remember when my brother was stationed in Honduras in his early 20s. He was scared, lonely and begging for any news from home…all that while building a bridge during peace time. I remember my grandfather’s stories from WWII. His blue eyes would sparkle and he’d laugh as he’d talk about using chickens for target practice or waving at the pretty girls as they marched through European towns. I also remember the stories my grandmother told about the nightmares he had when he returned.

My great-grandfather and my grandfather were both Army veterans. My mom’s boyfriend was Air Force. My brother was National Guard. And me? Well, I never did anything but question our government. I could, however, go to the store and buy a few packets of kool-aid, some rice krispie treats and a magazine and send them to a soldier who gets little or no mail. I could also pray for his mother.

I haven’t revealed my thoughts on the war and, frankly, I’d prefer not to know yours. That’s not my intention with this blog or this post. I simply wanted to convey my experience while visiting this website.