The Average Soldier
This is probably the most moving and powerful description of a soldier that I've ever read. And remember, whether you support women in our Military or not...they are there and can do the same things as the men and are asked to make the same sacrifices as the men. Please remember to pray for our soldiers every day. Teach your children to pray for our soldiers. We can never tell ...one of our children might be making the same sacrifice someday.
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 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
Sumbitted by Teresa