Memorial Day

May 25, 2015

Greetings from the civilian,

Humans are inevitably driven by emotion, motivated by the mélange of feelings that each of us fashions over our lives.  Some are provided by our own experiences and responses, and others are provided by instincts we may not even be aware of.

The spectrum of emotions is vast, but we all can identify when we have crossed one stream or another.  Love.  Hate.  Joy. Anger.  Hope. Empathy.  Regret. Elation.

Fear.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”  Nelson Mandela

It is a primal emotion, one that protects us and propels us.  Fear sometimes gets a bad rap, but it shapes us and hones us and creates strength.  It is a very personal emotion; we all have our own versions to carry around, and dealing with them is demanding, and very much a part of our character.  And perhaps we are never more human than when we consider the fears of others.

She is afraid that boot camp will crush her, that she will not be able to lift the pack, again, or run ten miles with it, again.  Afraid that she will wash out, and not live up to what is expected of her; by her parents, her husband, her CO.  Herself.

He is afraid of what he might be afraid of.  Trained and prepared and armed and sent out to do the job, he does not know if he will freeze when faced with violent danger.  Or faced with the fear of danger.

They are afraid that when they step off the landing craft they will drown before they reach the beach.  Afraid that the next step on the long dusty stretch of road will ignite an IED that will vaporize them.  Afraid of the next bullet that doesn’t miss.

He is afraid he will fail his team.  The men and women who have become closer than friends, closer than blood.  The people who count on him as much as he counts on them.  The guy who looks back over his shoulder with a wordless connection that says ‘You have my back.’

She is afraid she will never be the same.  That she cannot un-see what she has seen and now going back into the world will be some experience she may not be able to endure. 

They are afraid that this is pointless.  That after they take this hill, and fortify it and hold it, that a week from now no one will care which flag was at the top.  That this skirmish, these holes, this barbed wire, will have been for nothing.  This sleepless night, listening for noises that should not be there, fighting back fatigue and hunger, to protect a square of dirt, will be an exercise in futility.

He is afraid for his family.  That if something happens, no one will be there to care for them, protect them.  No Daddy-Daughter Dance, no soccer game, no curfew arguments.  No anniversary celebrations.

They are afraid it will never end.  Living on the edge of the blade, the tip of the spear.  Another patrol.  Another firefight.  Another panicked run across the open space, waiting to hear the sniper shot.  Another night of looking into the gloom to see what is trying to take your life. Another rotation back.  Another tour.

And in the terrifying chaos of war, when it is inevitable that the ultimate sacrifice must be made, when all of the fears have been crushed by what he knew was in him all along, the will, the courage to do what is asked of him, and he triumphs over this last challenge.   And perhaps then there is only one fear that may remain.

He is afraid he will be forgotten.

Hope this finds you remembering,

David