Thank You Sgt. Rett

My post today is dedicated to Sgt. Rett, who dropped in yesterday to visit our blog.

The titles Honor, Courage, and Commitment are related to this post. When you find some time, check out their links.

The following was copied and pasted from Fallen Heroes Memorial:

"aaron...........today i sat at work and that firefight just played over and over and over again. for some reason it just wouldn't stop.i broke it down from every different way. slow motion as it played through my head. why didnt i go into that house next door? would it have helped to get you out of there quicker? aaron it hurts so bad to think that you wont be home for another christmas. know that if there was away i'd have traded places with you. i guess it is true only the dead see the end of war. i only hope you know how much good has come from all of this. when we got the word to pull out i was so pissed because at the time i thought that are losses were in vain but come to find out i was wrong. so many good things have come from are blood, sweat, and tears. i love and miss you man.my heart and love goes out to all your family this holiday season.R/SSgt. Justin Rettenberger"

These are just a few of the words Sgt. Rett has posted on Aaron's message board. Our family appreciates how he and Doc Duty continue to talk of my son's actions on that fateful day. We'll remain forever proud of Aaron, but too, we know that sacrifice comes in many forms, many phases, from many heroes. Many survivors.

John 15:13 says, "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends."

If you are in war, then you know sacrifice begins with the daily grind of dirt and cold MREs: throw in a few bombs and explosives, and that should just about do it for the old stress level.

There, here, sacrifices are shared by the interested. Some jouurnalist, pushing forward, digging his way through the odd customs, for words to write about a war he's old enough to skip out on entirely. A father's choking acceptance of a posthumous award that bears the name of his youngest son, or perhaps an only daughter, for the mothers who mourn until their own dying day. But today I want to say something to those who make it home from war.

This 'greater ' love is something thay you guys deal with every day. I might have my palms out and open, asking what can I do to help? But really, compared to what you face 24/7, I feel almost silly asking that, or even daring to converse with you. Next to you, I feel almost as if I'm pretending to share in a world that truly, I know nothing about. Your heart and your head must carry a lot of weight. Weight that I wouldn't recognize, passing you on the street, or waiting behind you in a slow line, anxious for you to hurry up and get your pin number punched into that square machine, swiped, and out of my way. I know "you" must be everywhere. How have I treated you? What sort of impression have I given to you, out there on the street. On the battlefield, I know you: you're a hero in uniform doing a job I can't. But when you put on your civilian clothes and journey out, are you still my hero?

I don't expect one of you to be the same as you were before you left. It isn't expected. In fact, it would be scary if you didn't change. And God forgive me if I miss your battle scars out here, out here where,even now, it is too easy for me to become complacent, melancholy, self-involved here on the other side of the concertina and razor wire.

But just come home. Missing limbs, splintered minds, PTSD, stinky feet or really bad hearing. I pray that you, that none of you are taken from me. Just come home. Victorious. Like Sgt. Rett said, so much good has come from your blood, sweat, and tears.

And for those of you who try to carry the dead weight of a buddy back home, down a short dark alley way, back to safety, back to light, then especially, thank you. Sgt. Rett, thank you for your lifetime sacrifices. They won't be forgotten.

There must be so many good parents in this world.

Semper Fi,

De'on