Wounded, but Warriors still.
Last Friday April 11, 2008, I found myself a part of a most unique opportunity which rarely, if ever, is covered by our nation’s media outlets. On a sunny day in the nation’s capitol I boarded a bus with a co-worker which was in route to the Pentagon. A chance had been offered to me to welcome home some of our wounded Warriors; the best our nation has to offer in the defense of our God-given freedom, those who have fought well but have not emerged unscathed. Pending our arrival, as I saw the United States Air Force memorial in the distance, it's three spires rising high into the blue, I contemplated how I would never get to serve in such a capacity for the United States; for my country – hence the decisions which led to my current station. I would never walk the halls of the Pentagon or any other American military instillation as such a warrior, but only a civilian. However, in every generation of our family someone has served so someone always walked as such, as my brother does now.
As we arrived and disembarked from the bus, I hadn’t expected to be told how happy military and civilian staff of the Pentagon were to have a small contingent of Congressional aides present to welcome these folks home. I, along with others, was led into a long hallway where many unknown faces were already present standing against the walls. Looking down the hallway this is just what was; grateful people from all walks of life showing respect and gratitude for the willing sacrifice some choose to make to defend our great nation. I didn’t know what to make of the scene, didn’t know what to expect once the procession started. Next thing I knew the music began and with the clapping, just continuous clapping, as the musical standards of the military branches played. First down the hall: a young man, probably younger than I, in a wheelchair because he was missing both legs. I was later told in detail the different prosthetics he would be receiving so that the ability to walk and function as normal as possible would not be lost to him; he was just the beginning. Some warriors were in casts, others limping. A good number seemed to be doing just fine; still the clapping continued at a steady pace as the honorees moved down the line, thanking many of us for being there to support them; their faces saying all that needed to be said. One warrior in particular had lost an eye, and I can imagine the day in his future when his young daughter asks why her father looks a bit like a pirate – what a story that will be.
As I looked I saw heroes, regardless of race, gender, mobility or whatever else – those who, when the country asked “Who will go for us?” said, as the prophet Isaiah did “Here I am, send me”. The call came, and they answered, willing to defend the Constitution of the United States of America, and the People of these United States without purpose of evasion. It was an honor to be there, something everyone should get to do, but yet this never gets talked about, goes vastly under reported in the news, even though it happens once a month, and as a result the knowledge of such honoring is not widespread.
But now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
As we arrived and disembarked from the bus, I hadn’t expected to be told how happy military and civilian staff of the Pentagon were to have a small contingent of Congressional aides present to welcome these folks home. I, along with others, was led into a long hallway where many unknown faces were already present standing against the walls. Looking down the hallway this is just what was; grateful people from all walks of life showing respect and gratitude for the willing sacrifice some choose to make to defend our great nation. I didn’t know what to make of the scene, didn’t know what to expect once the procession started. Next thing I knew the music began and with the clapping, just continuous clapping, as the musical standards of the military branches played. First down the hall: a young man, probably younger than I, in a wheelchair because he was missing both legs. I was later told in detail the different prosthetics he would be receiving so that the ability to walk and function as normal as possible would not be lost to him; he was just the beginning. Some warriors were in casts, others limping. A good number seemed to be doing just fine; still the clapping continued at a steady pace as the honorees moved down the line, thanking many of us for being there to support them; their faces saying all that needed to be said. One warrior in particular had lost an eye, and I can imagine the day in his future when his young daughter asks why her father looks a bit like a pirate – what a story that will be.
As I looked I saw heroes, regardless of race, gender, mobility or whatever else – those who, when the country asked “Who will go for us?” said, as the prophet Isaiah did “Here I am, send me”. The call came, and they answered, willing to defend the Constitution of the United States of America, and the People of these United States without purpose of evasion. It was an honor to be there, something everyone should get to do, but yet this never gets talked about, goes vastly under reported in the news, even though it happens once a month, and as a result the knowledge of such honoring is not widespread.
But now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
posted by A. R. Welty at 11:29 PM
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