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 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 a 155mm
howitzer.
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
friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned
our respect and admiration with his blood.
And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this
tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.
As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot. .
A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their
helmets.

Prayer wheel for our military... please
don't break it Please send this on after a short prayer.

'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.'

When you receive this, please stop for a moment and
say a prayer for our ground troops in Afghanistan, sailors on ships, and airmen in the air, and for those
in Iraq .

There is nothing attached...
This can be very powerful...
Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Sailor, Coastguardsman,
Marine, or Airman,
prayer is the very best one.

Pass it on to everyone and pray.
