CaptMCBruceRet
09-26-2005, 06:46 AM
My Reflection On America...
I was sitting alone Saturday night in one of those loud, casual steak houses that you find all over the country. You know the type--a bucket of peanuts on every table, shells littering the floor, and a bunch of perky college kids racing around with longneck beers and sizzling platters.
Taking a sip of my iced tea, I studied the crowd over the rim of my glass. My gaze lingered on a group enjoying their meal. They wore no uniform to identify their branch of service, but they were definitely "military:" clean shaven, cropped haircut, and that "squared away" look that comes with pride. I later found out they were U.S. Army Reservist's.
Smiling sadly, I glanced across my table to the empty seat where my son would be sitting if he were with me. It had only been a few months since we sat in this very booth, talking about his upcoming deployment for the second time to Iraq. That was when he made me a promise that he would come back to this restaurant and treat me to a nice steak. In turn he would treasure the thought of me thinking about him until he returned home from Iraq.
Now his unit home from Iraq, his Battle group was deployed into the Gulf of Mexico and in particular New Orleans, 2 weeks ago.
I fingered the little flag pin I was wearing on my shortsleeve shirt and wondered where he was at this very moment. Was he safe and warm? Was his cold any better? Were my letters getting through to him? As I pondered these thoughts, high pitched female voices and loud men speaking from the next booth broke into my thoughts.
"I don't know what Bush is thinking about. Invading Iraq. You'd think that man would learn from his old man's mistakes. Good lord. What an idiot! I can't believe he is even in office. You do know, he stole the election."
Then they continued more of their ridiculous comments by saying, "Bush is such an idiot! He caused those helpless people to die in New Orleans."
I cut into my steak and tried to ignore them, as they began an endless tirade running down our president. I thought about the last night I spent with my son, as he prepared to deploy to Iraq, and about the way I was treated as a Vietnam War Veteran when I came home.
My son had just returned from getting his smallpox and anthrax shots. The image of him standing in my kitchen packing his gas mask still gives me chills.
Once again the women's voices invaded my thoughts. "It is all about oil, you know. Our soldiers will go in and rape and steal all the oil they can in the name of 'freedom'. Hmmm! I wonder how many innocent people they'll kill without giving it a thought? It's pure greed, you know."
My chest tightened as I stared at the group. I could still see how handsome my son looked in his uniform on the last day I saw him. I wondered what he was wearing now. Probably in his desert uniform, soaking wet from being in all that flood water, which the military affectionately dubbed "coffee stains."
"You know, we should just leave Iraq alone. They weren't hiding any weapons of mass destruction. In fact, I bet it's all a big act just to try and increase the president's popularity. That's all it is, padding the military budget at the expense of our social security and education. And, you know what else? We're just asking for another 9-ll I can't say when it happens again that we didn't deserve it."
Their words brought to mind the war protesters I had watched gathering outside in Washington and those thoughts again of the Vietnam War and what I and my fellow Veterans had to endure. Did no one appreciate the sacrifice of our brave men and women, who left their homes and family to ensure our freedom? Do they even know what "freedom" is???
I glanced at the table where the young men were sitting, and saw their courageous faces change. They had stopped eating and looked at each other dejectedly, listening to the men and women talking.
"Well, I, for one, think it's just deplorable to invade Iraq, and I am certainly sick of our tax dollars going to train professional baby killers we call a military."
Professional baby killers? That came from Vietnam and that's what they called 'us'. I thought about what a wonderful son I had and when I might see him again. Also about how long it would be before he would see me again.
That's it!!! I'd had it!!! Indignation rose up inside me. Normally I'm pretty reserved, pride in my son and my Country gave me a brassy boldness I never realized I had. Tonight I decided one voice will answer on behalf of our military, and let her pride in our troops be known.
Sliding out of my booth, I walked around to the adjoining booth and stood directly in front of their table. Looking at them 'eye to eye', I said, "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. You see, I'm sitting here trying to enjoy my dinner alone. And, do you know why? Because my son, a U.S. Marine, whom I love with all my heart, is in the Gulf of Mexico helping Hurricane victims tonight! This after being halfway around the world in both Afghanistan and Iraq, TWICE, defending your right to say rotten things about him."
"Yeah, you have the right to your opinion, and what you think is none of my business. However, what you say in public is something else! I will not sit by and listen to you ridicule MY country, MY president, MY son, and all the other fine American men and women who put their lives on the line, just so you can have the "freedom" to complain. Freedom is an expensive commodity! I will not let YOUR actions cheapen it."
I must have been louder that I meant to be, because the manager came over to inquire if everything was all right. I responded, "Yes, thank you." Then I turned my back to the men and women at the table and said, "Enjoy the rest of your meal."
As I returned to my booth to pick up my check and leave a tip, applause broke out. I was embarrassed for making a scene, and was going to leave the Steak House as quickly as I could. The men and women at the table I had just addressed picked up their check and scurried away.
After letting them leave, I walked over to the table where the Army Reservist's were sitting. I thanked each one of them and shook their hands for their service to our Country. Then I went to the cash register to pay my check.
While waiting to pay my check, the manager said, "Sir, your check has been paid, compliments of those soldiers."
He also smiled and said that 3 others had tried to pay for my dinner, but that the Soldiers had beaten them to it. They said that they wanted to "take care of the father of one of our boys."
With a lump in my throat, I gratefully turned to the soldiers and thanked them for buying my dinner. Grinning from ear to ear, they came over and shook my hand again and asked if I was a Veteran. I answered, "Yes a 2 time combat wounded Vietnam Veteran," and their reply was "We just want to thank you sir for your service to our Country. You know we can't get into confrontations with civilians, so we appreciate what you did to defend us and our Country."
As I drove home, for the first time since my son's enlistment in the Marines, I didn't feel quite so alone. My heart was filled with the warmth of those Soldiers who had bought my dinner. Somehow I just knew all of lives had been made better by that encounter with those people at that table.
Perhaps others will now look for more tangible ways to show their pride in our country, and the military who protect her.
And maybe, just maybe, the people at that table who were talking against our country, would pause for a minute to appreciate all the freedom America offers, and the price it costs to maintain our freedom.
As for me, I have learned that one voice CAN make a difference. Maybe the next time protesters gather outside the gates of Military Base or in Washington, DC, others will proudly stand on the opposite side of the streets with signs of their own that will simply say, "Thank You!"
*Written by Matt Bruce*
For Now, That's Just 'OUR' Opinion...
Matt Bruce
http://www.gopusa.com/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/flag17.gif My Webpage (http://www.newssarasota.com )
I was sitting alone Saturday night in one of those loud, casual steak houses that you find all over the country. You know the type--a bucket of peanuts on every table, shells littering the floor, and a bunch of perky college kids racing around with longneck beers and sizzling platters.
Taking a sip of my iced tea, I studied the crowd over the rim of my glass. My gaze lingered on a group enjoying their meal. They wore no uniform to identify their branch of service, but they were definitely "military:" clean shaven, cropped haircut, and that "squared away" look that comes with pride. I later found out they were U.S. Army Reservist's.
Smiling sadly, I glanced across my table to the empty seat where my son would be sitting if he were with me. It had only been a few months since we sat in this very booth, talking about his upcoming deployment for the second time to Iraq. That was when he made me a promise that he would come back to this restaurant and treat me to a nice steak. In turn he would treasure the thought of me thinking about him until he returned home from Iraq.
Now his unit home from Iraq, his Battle group was deployed into the Gulf of Mexico and in particular New Orleans, 2 weeks ago.
I fingered the little flag pin I was wearing on my shortsleeve shirt and wondered where he was at this very moment. Was he safe and warm? Was his cold any better? Were my letters getting through to him? As I pondered these thoughts, high pitched female voices and loud men speaking from the next booth broke into my thoughts.
"I don't know what Bush is thinking about. Invading Iraq. You'd think that man would learn from his old man's mistakes. Good lord. What an idiot! I can't believe he is even in office. You do know, he stole the election."
Then they continued more of their ridiculous comments by saying, "Bush is such an idiot! He caused those helpless people to die in New Orleans."
I cut into my steak and tried to ignore them, as they began an endless tirade running down our president. I thought about the last night I spent with my son, as he prepared to deploy to Iraq, and about the way I was treated as a Vietnam War Veteran when I came home.
My son had just returned from getting his smallpox and anthrax shots. The image of him standing in my kitchen packing his gas mask still gives me chills.
Once again the women's voices invaded my thoughts. "It is all about oil, you know. Our soldiers will go in and rape and steal all the oil they can in the name of 'freedom'. Hmmm! I wonder how many innocent people they'll kill without giving it a thought? It's pure greed, you know."
My chest tightened as I stared at the group. I could still see how handsome my son looked in his uniform on the last day I saw him. I wondered what he was wearing now. Probably in his desert uniform, soaking wet from being in all that flood water, which the military affectionately dubbed "coffee stains."
"You know, we should just leave Iraq alone. They weren't hiding any weapons of mass destruction. In fact, I bet it's all a big act just to try and increase the president's popularity. That's all it is, padding the military budget at the expense of our social security and education. And, you know what else? We're just asking for another 9-ll I can't say when it happens again that we didn't deserve it."
Their words brought to mind the war protesters I had watched gathering outside in Washington and those thoughts again of the Vietnam War and what I and my fellow Veterans had to endure. Did no one appreciate the sacrifice of our brave men and women, who left their homes and family to ensure our freedom? Do they even know what "freedom" is???
I glanced at the table where the young men were sitting, and saw their courageous faces change. They had stopped eating and looked at each other dejectedly, listening to the men and women talking.
"Well, I, for one, think it's just deplorable to invade Iraq, and I am certainly sick of our tax dollars going to train professional baby killers we call a military."
Professional baby killers? That came from Vietnam and that's what they called 'us'. I thought about what a wonderful son I had and when I might see him again. Also about how long it would be before he would see me again.
That's it!!! I'd had it!!! Indignation rose up inside me. Normally I'm pretty reserved, pride in my son and my Country gave me a brassy boldness I never realized I had. Tonight I decided one voice will answer on behalf of our military, and let her pride in our troops be known.
Sliding out of my booth, I walked around to the adjoining booth and stood directly in front of their table. Looking at them 'eye to eye', I said, "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. You see, I'm sitting here trying to enjoy my dinner alone. And, do you know why? Because my son, a U.S. Marine, whom I love with all my heart, is in the Gulf of Mexico helping Hurricane victims tonight! This after being halfway around the world in both Afghanistan and Iraq, TWICE, defending your right to say rotten things about him."
"Yeah, you have the right to your opinion, and what you think is none of my business. However, what you say in public is something else! I will not sit by and listen to you ridicule MY country, MY president, MY son, and all the other fine American men and women who put their lives on the line, just so you can have the "freedom" to complain. Freedom is an expensive commodity! I will not let YOUR actions cheapen it."
I must have been louder that I meant to be, because the manager came over to inquire if everything was all right. I responded, "Yes, thank you." Then I turned my back to the men and women at the table and said, "Enjoy the rest of your meal."
As I returned to my booth to pick up my check and leave a tip, applause broke out. I was embarrassed for making a scene, and was going to leave the Steak House as quickly as I could. The men and women at the table I had just addressed picked up their check and scurried away.
After letting them leave, I walked over to the table where the Army Reservist's were sitting. I thanked each one of them and shook their hands for their service to our Country. Then I went to the cash register to pay my check.
While waiting to pay my check, the manager said, "Sir, your check has been paid, compliments of those soldiers."
He also smiled and said that 3 others had tried to pay for my dinner, but that the Soldiers had beaten them to it. They said that they wanted to "take care of the father of one of our boys."
With a lump in my throat, I gratefully turned to the soldiers and thanked them for buying my dinner. Grinning from ear to ear, they came over and shook my hand again and asked if I was a Veteran. I answered, "Yes a 2 time combat wounded Vietnam Veteran," and their reply was "We just want to thank you sir for your service to our Country. You know we can't get into confrontations with civilians, so we appreciate what you did to defend us and our Country."
As I drove home, for the first time since my son's enlistment in the Marines, I didn't feel quite so alone. My heart was filled with the warmth of those Soldiers who had bought my dinner. Somehow I just knew all of lives had been made better by that encounter with those people at that table.
Perhaps others will now look for more tangible ways to show their pride in our country, and the military who protect her.
And maybe, just maybe, the people at that table who were talking against our country, would pause for a minute to appreciate all the freedom America offers, and the price it costs to maintain our freedom.
As for me, I have learned that one voice CAN make a difference. Maybe the next time protesters gather outside the gates of Military Base or in Washington, DC, others will proudly stand on the opposite side of the streets with signs of their own that will simply say, "Thank You!"
*Written by Matt Bruce*
For Now, That's Just 'OUR' Opinion...
Matt Bruce
http://www.gopusa.com/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/flag17.gif My Webpage (http://www.newssarasota.com )