Yes Matt,
I agree 100%...so many subtle things take me back to that time quite often. A smell, a phrase, a song....anything...
The smell of bug juice, and cammie sticks mixed with a nervous sweat, the smell of fuel burning from a C-130 as you hot load in the wee hours of the morning, the sight of the ground coming up all to quickly on a night jump....The taste of an MRE when you finally get a chance to eat, and remembering how good it tasted.
So many things, the way the Spanish Moss drifted with the breeze in the humid Savannah evenings, the sounds of River Street, the tasted of Salt water shooting up your nose from a Helo-cast, the way the rucksack would bite into your shoulders at mile 10 and knowing you're not even half there....
I guess I miss that " Brotherhood " the most, a special bond held between those who have faced their fears, the inner demons we all have, and winning the battle in the end. Too many times in this life we find it ever so easy to quit, to forget....To those who gave the ultimate sacrafice, where would we be today if they would've quit?? There is a pride, earned through sweat, blood, and yes...unmanly tears that shall accompany us in all our endeavor's...lest we forget...
To them, on this day...I give thanks for their efforts and the supreme sacrafice. I can only offer prayers to their families and loved ones....
And I challenge all the Iron Brother's and Sister's...Next time you walk in a store and see the Vet in the wheelchair, you don't have to give loose change and forget about him....Take the time to shake his hand and thank him...money will not buy the feeling of pride you'll give, and you just might be surprised what you feel inside
Ranger's Words.....
Ranger