RIP Pat Tillman 1976-2004

And all the rest of his brothers and sisters who went with him...This was sent to my wife this morning and she shared it with me. Some of you will appreciate the sentiments contained within it. The headline doesn't have a lot to do with the text, but it hit home to us because our eldest was born in 1976. Freedom is not free. We have already lost a number of them, haven't we? I was sitting alone 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.

Smiling sadly, I glanced across my table to the empty seat where my
husband usually sat. It had only been a few months since we sat in
this very booth, talking about his upcoming deployment to the Middle
East. That was when he made me promise to get a sitter for the kids,
come back to this restaurant once a month and treat myself to a nice
steak. In turn he would treasure the thought of me being here,
thinking about him until he returned home to me.

I fingered the little flag pin I constantly wear 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 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."

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 husband, as he prepared to deploy. He had just returned
from getting his smallpox and anthrax shots. The image of him standing
in our 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'. Hmph! 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 my wedding ring. I could still see
how handsome my husband looked in his "mess dress" the day he slipped
it on my finger. I wondered what he was wearing now. Probably his
desert uniform, affectionately dubbed "coffee stains" with a heavy
bulletproof vest over it.

"You know, we should just leave Iraq alone. I don't think they are
hiding any weapons. In fact, I bet it's all a big act just to 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 our base. Did no one appreciate the sacrifice of brave men and
women, who leave 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 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? I thought about what a wonderful father my
husband is, and of how long it would be before he would see our
children again.

That's it! Indignation rose up inside me. Normally reserved, pride in
my husband gave me a brassy boldness I never realized I had. Tonight
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
placed my hands flat on their table. Lowering myself to eye level with
them, I smilingly 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 husband, whom I love with all my heart, is
halfway around the world defending your right to say rotten things
about him."

"Yes, 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, and
I will not sit by and listen to you ridicule MY country, MY president,
MY husband, 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, ladies. Don't 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. "Yes, thank you," I
replied. Then turning back to the women, I said, "Enjoy the rest of
your meal."

As I returned to my booth applause broke out. I was embarrassed for
making a scene, and went back to my half eaten steak. The women picked
up their check and scurried away.

After finishing my meal, and while waiting for my check, the manager
returned with a huge apple cobbler ala mode. "Compliments of those
soldiers," he said. He also smiled and said the ladies tried to pay
for my dinner, but that another couple had beaten them to it. When I
asked who, the manager said they had already left, but that the
gentleman was a veteran, and wanted to take care of the wife of "one
of our boys."

With a lump in my throat, I gratefully turned to the soldiers and
thanked them for the cobbler. Grinning from ear to ear, they came over
and surrounded the booth. "We just wanted to thank you, ma'am. You
know we can't get into confrontations with civilians, so we appreciate
what you did."

As I drove home, for the first time since my husband's deployment, I
didn't feel quite so alone. My heart was filled with the warmth of the
other diners who stopped by my table, to relate how they, too, were
proud of my husband, and would keep him in their prayers. I knew their
flags would fly a little higher the next day.

Perhaps they would look for more tangible ways to show their pride in
our country, and the military who protect her. And maybe, just maybe,
the two women who were railing against our country, would pause for a
minute to appreciate all the freedom America offers, and the price it
pays to maintain it's freedom.

As for me, I have learned that one voice CAN make a difference. Maybe
the next time protesters gather outside the gates of the base where I
live, I will proudly stand on the opposite side with a sign of my own.
It will simply say, "Thank You!"

With all due respect to her pain, it was her "president" who stole $700 million dollars that was allocated to Afghanistan and diverted it illegally to prepare for an illegal war in non-threatening Iraq. Pat Tillman was let down by his president.

Bob, great article... thanks.Enough, well, what can I say.... enough.

Would someone please scoop the turd out of the punchbowl?

Yes, please keep the turds out of the punchbowl. For that matter, I'd be glad to help them emigrate to a country more to their liking. Here's a guarantee of a $100.00 to help with the fare, just as long as the recipient promises to renounce their American citizenship, legally, and not seek to return to the USA in their lifetime. God bless Specialist Tillman and those who daily serve to keep freedom alive. Freedom, you see, is very expensive, and comes in the color of red, the color of blood and guts, as it always has and likely always will.The young soldier from Portland who died last week from the 133rd was the roommate, in Iraq, of another young soldier from our church - a small, conservative country church in Levant. There are at least three sons from families in our church now serving in Iraq.It's time to rally around both our troops and our leaders, not to harp on and verbally bite them. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're either for us or agin' us. And if you're agin' us, then move on and out (of the country, please), as you are only contributing to our nation's enemies, those who revel in the death of our sons and daughters and mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and neighbors.May God continue to guide and bless our troops, our nation, our leaders and our country...and may we have to discernment to pay attention to Him, individually and as a nation.

Here we go again, another chain letter of dubious origin. The Washington Dispatch website has removed it,
"This article as been removed from the archives as questions have arisen regarding its validity. The author has been contacted on numerous occasions but has refused to provide any material that could resolve the issue."Isn't war propaganda dandy?http://www.snopes.com/politics/war/speakup.asp

Actually mainelydave, Bob's of dubious origin too!charlie

Have you nothing better to offer than personal attacks, Charlie?

Have you nothing better to post than propaganda?The game we play is but a game, a serious game, but a game none the less, Bob.charlie

You may be playing a game, Charlie, but I am not. I frequent AMG because I think it is a great place to stay current about Maine politics with some national and international topics thrown in. I also appreciate the opportunity to express my opinions (of which I have many).These are my opinions and, as I have stated in past posts, I don't expect you (or anyone else, for that matter) to share them or embrace them, for you (and they) are most certainly entitled to your opinion.Political chatter, ribbing and the like have a home on AMG. Personal insults, especially lobbed over the fence from the faceless, really don't add anything to the discussion.I was personally offended by the terrible treatment this afternoon of a wonderful Maine lady, Mary Adams, by another of the faceless. Mary is a dear friend of mine and the faceless coward who insulted her should be ashamed of himself. Although she doesn't need my help to defend herself, I'd be lacking if I didn't speak up.Why do the faceless have to throw the grenades? Sad, real sad.

And you play the game well, Bob. Far better than I. Right out of Carl Rove's play book I'd say...Tear jerking sympathy/empathy propaganda, have you no pride! Can you not argue to reason, not emotion! WMD, Bob? Remember?charlie

When ya got nuttin to say, insult 'em, right Charlie? Must work for you. Ugh.

John, if one finds the 'truth' insulting, too bad. It's still the truth.Bob tends to post tear jerking drivel of questionable authenticity and little importance to the facts to elicit support for this immoral invasion of Iraq.And you as his defender and apologist are of the same ilk. We, as a nation, are in a 'damned if we do and damned if we don't' position in Iraq now, thanks to Mr. Bush.Skip the prayers for me, waste you time praying for someone else!charlie

Charlien, I'm pleased to inform you that a prayer was said on your behalf this morning. May God guide and bless you and your family, and may your face always be turned toward Him.