I'm just trying to be a father,
Raise a daughter and a son,
Be a lover to their mother,
Everything to everyone.
Up and at 'em bright and early,
I'm all business in my suit,
Yeah, I'm dressed for success
from my head down to my boots,
I don't do it for money,
there's still bills that I can't pay,
I don't do it for the glory,
I just do it anyway,
Providing for our future's my responsibility,
Yeah I'm real good under pressure,
Being all that I can be,
And I can't call in sick on Mondays
When the weekends been to strong,
I just work straight through the holidays,
And sometimes all night long.
You can bet that I stand ready
When the wolf growls at the door,
Hey, I'm solid, hey I'm steady,
Hey I'm true down to the core,
And I will always do my duty,
No matter what the price,
I've counted up the cost,
I know the sacrafice,
Oh, and I don't want to die for you,
But if dyin's asked of me,
I'll bear that cross with an honor,
'Cause freedom don't come free.
I'm an American Soldier, an American,
Beside my brothers and my sisters
I will proudly take a stand,
When liberty's in jeopardy
I will always do what's right,
I'm out here on the front lines,
Sleep in peace tonight.
American Soldier,
I'm an American Soldier,
An American,
An American Soldier
Truly these BRAVE men who unselfishly
VOLUNTEERED to serve in our Military
are Absolutely our Angels, with skin on.
Thank You! All of you!
and your families, for your
dedication and sacrifice,
I can go to sleep at night,
because you sit on a wall,
In a tank, a sand bank, a plane, a ship..
I can KNOW that I am safe,
I am FREE, I am protected.
May HIS angels guard you,
and keep you safe,
until you return home to us.
The Average Infantryman
The average age of the Infantryman is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.
He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.
He listens to country, rock and roll, hip hop, rap, jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.
He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less-in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.
He digs fox holes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.
He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity.
He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteen full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low. He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.
He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.
He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.
Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years. He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.
Author Unknown,
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