We Who Have Seen War
In Steven Speilberg's 1998 hit film "Saving Private Ryan" when asked what his book was about, Corporal Upham replies that it is about the bonds of brotherhood that form during war. Nothing more is ever mentioned of his book for the rest of the film, however, if he were to have finished it, I'd hope that he would have said something like this:
The Army can teach you a lot about yourself. You quickly learn the definition of the word "limits". The Army takes you to your limits; right to the edge until you feel like you can't go any farther, until your insides are screaming at you to stop and your heart is racing and your every thought is about how you are going to break if you have to push on for just one more agonizing moment.
The Army takes you to this point and suddenly, from somewhere deep inside you, a voice softly whispers: "You've gotten this far, now take another step."
And you do.
And again, the voice whispers: "You've gone this far, take another step."
And, again, you'll step. Not out of some selfish, male bravado bullshit and not for yourself. You step, because the man beside you also steps. And the man beside him also steps. And again. And again, all the way down the line until you begin to see and to learn that the mind will quit long before the heart does. You begin to see and to learn that there is nothing that you can not do. You begin to feel, deep down inside of you that, together, as a team, there is nothing that can stand in your way.
It's a voice that is both familiar and foriegn, comforting and challenging. It is the voice of your friends. It is the voice of your family. It is the voice of those who have come before you and the voice of those who will come after you.
You know, now, the definition of the word "limits" but are no longer bound by it.
As much as I sometimes complain about the Army, on this deployment, I've learned the unmistakable fact that when things are at there worst, when you're lying in the mud and the cold, terrified and alone in the night, there is no nobler spirit, no more giving soul, no more solid a rock to steady yourself on than that of the soldiers of the United States Army and Marine Corps.
There is a bond of brotherhood that exhists only in its most basic form at work in the Army and it exhists like nowhere else in the universe. It is a bond where, when push comes to shove, total strangers, people who have never met and have nothing more in common than a dirty, faded uniform; stained with the blood of heros and the tears of sorrow, come together, soley by chance, in a fly infested, shattered, broken down and freezing building, surrounded on all sides by a city that hates them almost as much as it hates the flag on their arm and what it stands for, and they pick themselves up, dust themselves off, offer each other there arms and whisper: "Step with me now, brother."
These were the men of Charlie Company, 1/14th Light Infantry, Able and Bravo Teams of 7th Special Forces Group, the twelve man SEAL team from the United States Navy, the sixteen man Iraqi MOI team, and of course, my fellow soldiers of Tactical HUMINT Team 310, who froze, suffered, bled and cried together and who will all return to the safety of our homes... someday.
I have never met a group of men so honorable, courageous, steadfast and giving in all of my life.
The Army can teach you a lot about yourself. You quickly learn the definition of the word "limits". The Army takes you to your limits; right to the edge until you feel like you can't go any farther, until your insides are screaming at you to stop and your heart is racing and your every thought is about how you are going to break if you have to push on for just one more agonizing moment.
The Army takes you to this point and suddenly, from somewhere deep inside you, a voice softly whispers: "You've gotten this far, now take another step."
And you do.
And again, the voice whispers: "You've gone this far, take another step."
And, again, you'll step. Not out of some selfish, male bravado bullshit and not for yourself. You step, because the man beside you also steps. And the man beside him also steps. And again. And again, all the way down the line until you begin to see and to learn that the mind will quit long before the heart does. You begin to see and to learn that there is nothing that you can not do. You begin to feel, deep down inside of you that, together, as a team, there is nothing that can stand in your way.
It's a voice that is both familiar and foriegn, comforting and challenging. It is the voice of your friends. It is the voice of your family. It is the voice of those who have come before you and the voice of those who will come after you.
You know, now, the definition of the word "limits" but are no longer bound by it.
As much as I sometimes complain about the Army, on this deployment, I've learned the unmistakable fact that when things are at there worst, when you're lying in the mud and the cold, terrified and alone in the night, there is no nobler spirit, no more giving soul, no more solid a rock to steady yourself on than that of the soldiers of the United States Army and Marine Corps.
There is a bond of brotherhood that exhists only in its most basic form at work in the Army and it exhists like nowhere else in the universe. It is a bond where, when push comes to shove, total strangers, people who have never met and have nothing more in common than a dirty, faded uniform; stained with the blood of heros and the tears of sorrow, come together, soley by chance, in a fly infested, shattered, broken down and freezing building, surrounded on all sides by a city that hates them almost as much as it hates the flag on their arm and what it stands for, and they pick themselves up, dust themselves off, offer each other there arms and whisper: "Step with me now, brother."
These were the men of Charlie Company, 1/14th Light Infantry, Able and Bravo Teams of 7th Special Forces Group, the twelve man SEAL team from the United States Navy, the sixteen man Iraqi MOI team, and of course, my fellow soldiers of Tactical HUMINT Team 310, who froze, suffered, bled and cried together and who will all return to the safety of our homes... someday.
I have never met a group of men so honorable, courageous, steadfast and giving in all of my life.