pyroguysr's Diaryland Diary

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Brothers In Arms

20040912

I know I�ve a lot of things to catch up on here, as well as put in my private diary and my other, semi-public one, but this was one thing that happened last Sunday at the Maryland RenFest.

Any of you that have been around me for awhile know that I am the business manager, sales manager and chief bottle washer (literally) for a small company that sells soft-sculpture dragons at Renaissance Festivals. We have two other employees, a wonderful gay male whom I get along with fabulously who goes by �Gumby� and then the owner, Kat.

Gumby and I sold one of our top-o-the-line dragons to another one of the Rennies at the fair and this guy asked if he could pick it up later when he would be heading for home. We bagged it and put it away. Ten minutes before faire ended, I called this guy and he said he�d be there shortly.

This guy, who I�ll call K.S. for certain reasons, stops by and Gumby recognizes him from previous years. We begin to talk and K.S. is asked by Gumby and Kat �why did you cut your hair? You had such beautiful, long, black hair!� (Realize that K.S. is tall, good looking, of Celtic and Native American ancestry and is� intimidating without being ominous � yeah, that�s the only way I can really describe him). Anyway, KS says that he got a new job and had to get it cut. When asked, he shows them the ID for his new career� he is now in the protection racket, guarding a very important man residing at a certain large house in a city that banks on the Potomac (wink wink, nudge nudge).

That gets some �oooh�s� and �aaaahs� from Kat, Gumby and Landon. Me? I�ve already noticed his beret and the somewhat tarnished pin he wears up there.

Special Forces.

(My buddy from Boy Scouts, Chuck Coffin, had one just like it...)

So, I made light of KS cutting his hair, telling everyone that �he needed to do it so that his partners could tell who they were shooting at should he have to throw his body into the line of fire.� (Long-haired hippie types tend to get wasted first in that particular racket, especially if that hippie type is throwing themselves across the body of their boss! LOL)

KS and I get to talking about various things going on in the political world and the ongoing wars. He told me about his training, found out I was a Vietnam Vet, discussed my anti-war protester days and how my politics changed because of my coming into contact with folks that used people like me to grab power instead of actually working for change (hint hint, nudge nudge).

I told him of the story I wrote about visiting �The Wall� in the city where he works, and the feeling that comes over you when you go there. He told me about some visitors to his employers house, calling them all �missin� lim�s.� I believed I'd heard �muslims� and thought it odd that they'd be visiting this particular place . So did Kat and Gumby. KS corrected them and said, �No, �Missing Limbs.� These were ex-active duty guys that had stepped on mines, been shot, hit by shrapnel or otherwise maimed by crazed, lunatic, evangelistic, narrow-minded religious nuts that want to kill us all for our lifestyle in what many describe as �Mr. Bush�s War� but several of them were also veterans of a place called �Bosnia� (erm� Mr. CLINTON�S war? Remember that??? Didn't that end a long time ago? What? Naaaaah, can't be! You mean� we�re STILL THERE!!! STILL FIGHTING THAT ONE TOO!!!!??? No shit! I forgot ALL ABOUT THAT because THE PRESS DOESN'T REPORT ABOUT MR CLINTONS WAR!).

He told me about how they were honored to meet his employer and how it brought back memories for him as well when he saw an Air Force Ranger. "He had to be paratroop as well" said KS. "I was Paratroop when I was training for Special Forces."

(SF�s go through a nasty part of training that is probably second only to the Navy SEAL�s � according to my buddy, Chuck.)

KS told me about how his platoon had been ��accidentally� left behind� enemy lines during the cold war in eastern Europe. #

He told me how one of his guys broke down from �Catholic guilt�� the same kind of guilt that his girlfriend �suffers� from when she doesn�t understand his passion for his country and his employer. I told him I understood this as well, having survived 8 years of the penguins.

Well, this one guy from KS's platoon thought that �God was punishing him� for being bad and learning all these ways to kill �in direct violation of the 10 Commandments.� (In reality, according to a learned rabbi I once had the privilege of befriending, the actual translation is closer to �thou shalt not commit murder� or �unnecessary death.�).

KS talked about how this guy went off the deep end on him for the 11 days it took for them to get back (undetected, I might add). When they got back, KS had to evaluate this guy for further duty and declared him �unfit.� They guy claimed that KS was a "royal asshole" and had �ruined his life.�

KS started breaking down at this point. KS, the Special Forces guy, trained in 100 ways to kill a man, from snapping his neck to shooting him from 100 yards away with a silenced rifle. The things that this other soldier said to him hurt to the core. I assured him that he'd done the correct thing because you have to be able to trust the guy watching your back. When a guy cracks under pressure like that in a potential combat situation (potential, hell... they WERE in a combat situation!)you can't trust him anymore... not when he bitches about how he's being singled out for punishment all the way back to safety.

KS repeated again and again how much those remarks had hurt him. He began breaking down, going back to talking about these �Missing Limbs� guys and his girlfriends inability to understand the sacrifices these guys made for our freedoms, because she �thought war was silly and evil...� because she doesn't understand that you have to stand up to potential bullies and gangsters or be weakened over time until you no longer command any respect.

Gumby and Landon just stared at him as he broke down, unable to know what to do. So I did what was needed. I hugged the guy.

I put my arms around him (me, at 5'7" and him at over 6 ft) and let him cry. We were brothers-in-arms, both of us Vets, both who had volunteered, both who had temporarily given up our freedom so that the rest of the people in this country could stand up and say whatever silly-assed thing they wanted to, thereby making fools of themselves...

Man, I�ve never been so close to loving a male human being in all my life� but I understood just what he was going through.

My eyes tear up every time I read the names of Slack, Kikkert and Kurella on that Wall � three people I personally knew that gave their lives for our freedom � maybe threw them away in a misunderstood war, but gave their lives (I�ll have to post my short story about going to the wall so that you can cry as well). All three were volunteers. Slack was a Marine, Kikkert a Swabby and Kurella was an ROTC volunteer for the Army.

KS cried, I understood.

When he recovered, we were all solemn. He took the gift for his girlfriend � a �gift from his heart� he called it � and thanked me for letting him cry. Something stronger and more bonding than love passed between us at that point, even though he made promises of bringing me some things with his employers seal stamped on it (if he could) but I�ve already received a gift from him � his friendship.

I hope to see you again, brother! .

# COLD WAR - that was the FORTY YEAR WAR we "fought" - prior to these little desert skirmishes - under primarily liberal, Democrat 'leadership' from the 1950's until Ronald REAGAN ended it in the 80's without John Kerry's help - Gee... I wonder how many soldiers died during THAT period and why the press never reported, daily, the totals on THAT or on MR CLINTON'S ONGOING WAR? (Naw, the media's not biased... not one bit! - and I'm not the least bit upset about it...)

4:13 a.m. - 2004-09-15

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