Heroes: When A Soldier Comes Home

While this forwarded e-mail contains some pretty good humor, the content demands that it be placed in my Heroes Hall of Fame. Amidst all of the turmoil in the struggle for liberty going on in Iran and other places around the world, this e-mail serves as a reminder that we still have many of our own people up to their necks in the struggle too – overseas and at home.

The people ahead of me in the chain included some nice quotes before sending it to the next link. I’ve added my own in last-comes-first order.

“He who is the author of a war lets loose the whole contagion of hell, and opens a vein that bleeds a nation to death.” – Thomas Paine

“Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.” – Unknown

“In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure.” – Bill Cosby

“We cannot all do great things in life, but we can all do small things with great Love.” – Mother Teresa

WHEN A SOLDIER COMES HOME

This email is being circulated around the world – please keep it going.

When a soldier comes home, he finds it hard…

…to listen to his son whine about being bored.

…to keep a straight face when people complain about potholes.

…to be tolerant of people who complain about the hassle of getting ready for work.

…to be understanding when a co-worker complains about a bad night’s sleep.

…to be silent when people pray to God for a new car.

…to control his panic when his wife tells him he needs to drive slower.

…to be compassionate when a businessman expresses a fear of flying.

…to keep from laughing when anxious parents say they’re afraid to send their kids off to summer camp.

…to keep from ridiculing someone who complains about hot weather.

…to control his frustration when a colleague gripes about his coffee being cold.

…to remain calm when his daughter complains about having to walk the dog.

…to be civil to people who complain about their jobs.

…to just walk away when someone says they only get two weeks of vacation a year.

…to be forgiving when someone says how hard it is to have a new baby in the house.

The only thing harder than being a Soldier…

…is loving and worrying about one.

I was asked to pass this on and I will gladly do so,

Will you???

I want ice water.

Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert

Other than crude oil, which, in historical terms, only recently became of significant value, just what the hell is worth killing over in middle eastern countries like Israel, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan? Do all of these countries even have significant oil deposits? And when you consider the environmental impact, perhaps the value of oil itself has become somewhat “crude.”

Just thinking about it makes me so angry that a little Pink Floyd has become an absolute necessity:

Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert

Brezhnev took Afghanistan
Begin took Beirut
Galtieri took The Union Jack
And Maggie over lunch one day
Took a cruiser with all hands
Apparently to make him give it back

The Fletcher Memorial Home

Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere
And build them a home
A little place of their own
The Fletcher Memorial Home for incurable tyrants and kings

And they can appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit TV
To make sure they’re still real
It’s the only connection they feel

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Reagan and Haig
Mr. Begin and friend
Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley
Mr. Brezhnev and party
The ghost of McCarthy
The memories of Nixon
And now adding colour
A group of anonymous Latin-American meat packing glitterati”

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?

They can polish their medals and sharpen their smiles,
And amuse themselves playing games for a while
Boom boom, bang bang, lie down you’re dead

Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
With their favourite toys
They’ll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial Home for colonial wasters of life and limb

Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can be applied

Southampton Dock

They disembarked in 45
And no one spoke and no one smiled
There were too many spaces in the line

Gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial knifes

But now
She stands upon Southampton dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock
Clings to her wet body in the rain

In quiet desperation knuckles
White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again

And still the dark stain spreads between his shoulder blades
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made

But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut

I want ice water.