A few years ago, I was at a dinner party. A kid was there – a kid to me – who was getting ready to leave for his first military tour in Afghanistan. He was ecstatic. He was a Marine, I think, and his job was to hover in a helicopter above the fray and radio to the Marines below about where the bad guys are. I could have cried listening to him. Here he was sitting with me, excited, alive and eating hot dogs with the All-American Mariners on TV in the background and I’m thinking to myself that this is the first guy who goes down. Shoot him and his helicopter down and you remove any concerted effort against you. Then it’s just a shoot-em-up and whoever has more guns wins. Or whoever is more ready to die.
I don’t often think about it but will on this weekend. However much you hate war and violence and dying, remember that people have done just those things to afford us the liberty to rarely have to think about them.