The Shame of the Warden
What happened to our sense of gratitude towards those who risk their lives fighting for us?
Since World War II, making war has gone downhill. It seems that we no longer have the appreciation for the vagaries of war. Unfortunately, war is an ugly thing. One quickly learns that only shooting a armed, uniformed soldier will be our first and last mistake. War is not black and white. There is no good, nor evil. Just death and survival. The general population, as peaceful people, have no idea what demands are placed on a warrior ( seeing as it is a loaded term I have refrained from using "soldier" ). There will be times when one finds himself face to face with a twelve or thirteen year old boy holding a Kalishnikov. Do we really expect him to say, "Oh, this child was tricked into being a pawn in this war, I should not hurt him." Well, I can honestly say anyone who thinks that is stupid. Whine all you want I will not back down on that stance. Especially when you take into account that being a 20 year old participant in war was quite a feat a couple of thousand years ago. Children learned to fight before puberty's onset.
Soldiers went to Vietnam and fed the earth with their blood. There are few who came back and were honored. Truly a dark chapter in the history of war ( especially for the US), this would be the begining of the end of valor. Make no mistake honour and valor were never pretty things to start with; they were an excuse.
People despised Vietnam veterans at first. Not the powers that be who sent war overseas. No, not those responsible. Instead, they turned their fury on those who strove to do their survive. Those who feared death as much as the next man... or did they?
It's an easy thing to point fingers and cry inhumanity; doubly so when one forgets their mortality. People who live at home, in big houses, with nice jobs and friendly neighbours; these people don't know what it is to be desperate.
Desperation is what drives a man to survive. Desperation and fear. This is what keeps you running when you're all alone being chased by a possee tracking you down. Fear is what keeps you from passing out from exhaustion. And when this happens to you, you come and tell me that it wasn't the need to survive that drove you to sharpen stakes and coat the tips in filth. Tell me that you weren't scared for your life when you use the cover of night to sneak up on a grown man and break him with your bare hands.
Name me a warrior who's achievements are not steeped in blood and tears, and I will name you a liar.
Since World War II, making war has gone downhill. It seems that we no longer have the appreciation for the vagaries of war. Unfortunately, war is an ugly thing. One quickly learns that only shooting a armed, uniformed soldier will be our first and last mistake. War is not black and white. There is no good, nor evil. Just death and survival. The general population, as peaceful people, have no idea what demands are placed on a warrior ( seeing as it is a loaded term I have refrained from using "soldier" ). There will be times when one finds himself face to face with a twelve or thirteen year old boy holding a Kalishnikov. Do we really expect him to say, "Oh, this child was tricked into being a pawn in this war, I should not hurt him." Well, I can honestly say anyone who thinks that is stupid. Whine all you want I will not back down on that stance. Especially when you take into account that being a 20 year old participant in war was quite a feat a couple of thousand years ago. Children learned to fight before puberty's onset.
Soldiers went to Vietnam and fed the earth with their blood. There are few who came back and were honored. Truly a dark chapter in the history of war ( especially for the US), this would be the begining of the end of valor. Make no mistake honour and valor were never pretty things to start with; they were an excuse.
People despised Vietnam veterans at first. Not the powers that be who sent war overseas. No, not those responsible. Instead, they turned their fury on those who strove to do their survive. Those who feared death as much as the next man... or did they?
It's an easy thing to point fingers and cry inhumanity; doubly so when one forgets their mortality. People who live at home, in big houses, with nice jobs and friendly neighbours; these people don't know what it is to be desperate.
Desperation is what drives a man to survive. Desperation and fear. This is what keeps you running when you're all alone being chased by a possee tracking you down. Fear is what keeps you from passing out from exhaustion. And when this happens to you, you come and tell me that it wasn't the need to survive that drove you to sharpen stakes and coat the tips in filth. Tell me that you weren't scared for your life when you use the cover of night to sneak up on a grown man and break him with your bare hands.
Name me a warrior who's achievements are not steeped in blood and tears, and I will name you a liar.