Every time I close my eyes I see the friends I've lost. I see how they gave their lives without question of if it was for the right cause, for the right reasons. It wasn't for America, it wasn't for their families back a home, or the mission at hand.
It was for love. A love that if you have never experienced you could not possibly comprehend no matter how much I try to explain.
In a world caught up with celebrity and social status, it's nice to remember that some people live and give their lives for something other than themselves.
To go further in to this, I remember watching a movie where this kid talks about the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and it's a fucking plastic bag dancing in the wind. How fucking sad is that?
A normal human response is something like a sunset in (insert exotic/remote location here) or some shit like that. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen was men stepping into certain death for one a fallen comrade, with complete disregard for their own personal safety, bringing out the dead because they would be fucking damned if the enemy was going to leave with them. Their determination and perseverance to leave no man behind is the definition of brotherhood.
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| "And those affraid to go will think of themselves as lesser men as they hear how we fought and died together. | " |
-Infidel
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