When I first got on the internet tonight, and did my usual blog reading and email checking, I had nothing to write about. If you can believe that. I know, I know, as a blogger I should always have something to write about, well, today, me not so much. Anyway, I came up with a couple of comments here and there. I think my best was probably over at SMASH’s on his article about the USS Iowa. It’s a shame to see a good memorial to the servicemen who made the ultimate sacrifice, turned into a partisan agenda-advancing debacle. But then, the liberals in San Francisco never were much to value military service. It’s almost as bad as the whole WTC Memorial Plans. But I digress(been doing that a lot lately). It all put me in a very contemplative mood. And when I read THIS and THIS, which got me thinking and gave me something to blog about. Go figure. Oh, and don’t forget to drop by The Jump Blog and take a listen to Goldfalcon’s song, My Pretty Ones and the rest of his musical works”.
I got to thinking about why I want to serve. Truly, deep down, why I want to risk my life, for little pay, and, it seems sometimes, for little recognition. It’s in my blood, I guess. I have had a relative in just about every single American war since the Revolution. I am a son of the American Revolution, son of the Confederacy, and native-born American. Service calls out to me. For me, the uniform is a part of me. I want to protect freedom and liberty and the rights that I so wholeheartedly believe in. But I know that when I do actually see action, these things will not motivate me. What will, is the thoughts of my friends and family back home. The men and women who stand beside me in the fight for freedom. That is what will keep me going, during tough times and when fear grips me.
If I cannot become a pilot, I will become a SEAL, I have pondered this over and over and it is the only thing that would satisfy my adrenalin addiction. My way of thinking is, if I can’t fly the planes, then I’m gonna jump out of them. I want to stand against the enemy side by side with rough men, who I can trust with my life. And if I can’t go to college and become an officer, then I am going to enlist into the Army of Marines, and go straight into the fray. I’ll try to be Special Forces or Force Recon if I can, but the key thing is to serve.
I want to be tested. I want to join the ranks of fellow patriots who have fought for what they believe in. I want to be the next generation to follow the family tradition. I want to join those overseas and fight the enemy of country and to take the battle to him and show him the extent of the United States’ resolve. I want to fight for my beliefs. I don’t want to be remembered for be a sissy who couldn’t stand up for his convictions. Sometimes a man has to what a man has to do. I want to live life and leave my mark upon the world. I don’t want to be confined to a life of regret for paths never taken and area never explored. I want to be talked about as a patriot and a real man.
And if I should die while serving my country, I want no one to weep for me, for I died doing what I loved. I died among men and women of honor who did everything they could. I died nobly on the battlefield, proving myself. I don’t want anyone to blame the president, the DOD, or any of my higher-ups for my death. If you must blame someone, blame the enemy. There are no fingers to be pointed, I chose this lifestyle. I chose to serve my country, and place my life on the line so that others could sleep peacefully in their beds at night. So that mothers could tell their children that ask them about terror, that everything is going to be alright, because there are men and women like me out in the front lines serving and making the ultimate sacrifice. There are those ready to do violence on their behalf so that apple pie, baseball, football, NASCAR, freedom, democracy, and the American Dream could flourish on our shores. And when I die, bury me in Mount Pleasant, North Carolina, in St. John’s cemetery. Bury me with my kin, with fellow soldiers and airmen and marines and sailors, who came before me. Tell my story for all to hear. Tell them I died for them, so that they could be free. Have no bitterness in your heart, no anger in your soul, plot no revenge. And when my time comes, raise the flag high, for all to see, and say a silent prayer for those fighting and dying in foreign lands for your safety.
Just some thoughts from a seventeen year old who wants to serve his country.