By Aaron
American beliefs were protected by rough men in harms way doing things you would not.
This is what has preserved this nation, not people who pontificate the abstractions of moral behavior from the safety of their computer keyboard.
It’s always been that way for America. Rough men fighting and dying to preserve liberty and freedom. There were times in the American Revolution when your notion of battlefield correctness would have turned the tide for the British. You would have had patriots jailed or hung for what they did in your name and to protect your country. There were times when we knocked around a British soldier until he gave up the information and we did it because we were in it to win, but we knew where to draw the line and often did.
Noble gestures and Kingsbury rules are what you do in a sports arena, not a battlefield. And when it’s your butt on the line you are going to do the same thing, don’t kid yourself! Chances are we wouldn’t have to ask you twice.
You can say whatever suits you here, but in combat, under fire, it’s a whole new game. And until you’ve been there, you’re just speaking theoretically or academically…and high-minded academics are not what won wars against a determined enemy. Ask a vet what it takes to win. Speaking of…I want to insert this, its a bit off topic but it concerns the very people you would condemn for rough treatment with a prison to get him to talk.
“What is a Vet? He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day, making sure armored personnel carriers didn’t run out of fuel. He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel. She is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep every night sobbing for two long years in Danang. He is the POW who went away one person and came back another–or didn’t come back at all. He is the Quantico Drill Instructor who has never seen combat–but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other’s backs. He is the Parade riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand. He is the career Quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by. He is the three anonymous heroes in the Tomb of the Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor died unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean’s sunless deep. He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket–palsied now and aggravatingly slow–who helped liberate the Nazi Death Camps and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when his nightmares come. He is an ordinary, and yet an extraordinary, human being. A person who suffered some of his life’s most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a Soldier and a Savior and a Sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation every known.”