Soldiers

I just finished watching the war movie “We Were Soldiers”. I pray that my own children, and my children’s children, and the children of all of the people of the world, will never have to experience life and death at the hands of their brothers.

The finest man that I have ever known, and perhaps the best friend I ever have had was a Viet Nam veteran. His name is Stephan Keys. He has been my mentor and teacher. He taught me the true meaning of brotherhood, honor and valor.

Steve was not a good man. His first best destiny was the life of a warrior. His greatest skill was the taking of human life. By all accounts, one could say that he epitomized the best and the worst of what a man could be. He is the first man that I ever loved.

There once was a time when I would have given my life before I took the life of another. This changed on the day that my first child Atlantis was born. When I held her in my arms, so perfect and so beautiful, I knew then that I would kill before I allowed anyone to bring harm to her. I never realized though that there would come a time when, if Steve had asked me, I would kill without remorse or regret.

I now understand why he was the great leader in battle that he became.

Some might say that it was all just words and boasting on his part.

I think not.

I can only guess as to why he walked away from the military, but I suppose that when you are sent on a one-way mission and all of your team are killed, you might consider it impossible to fight again knowing that you will survive and those that you love, as I love Steve, will die.

He told me in the end, the only thing that saved him was that he ran out of ammunition. He was taken prisoner and eventually escaped, or was rescued. From the day that I first met him, to the day he died, he had a fetish about keeping clean. I guess that is what happens after you have lived for weeks on end in a latrine.

When he finally returned to the states, they put him in a cargo plane with the dead bodies of his comrades. Every battle that he fought was “off the record”. He was an Airborne Ranger, a master sergeant at least twice (he had a bad habit of knocking out his superior officers) a demolitions expert and an expert strategist. He was a trained martial artist but not the best, yet you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with him. You might be able to beat him pretty bad, but in the end, he would win because he wouldn’t give up unless you killed him.

He told me that the first time he ever stepped out of a chopper, he was excited and his mind was filled with dreams of glory and the voices of soldiers singing the theme to the “Green Berets”. When the chopper touched down in the LZ, the head of the man in front of him was immediately blown off by enemy fire. Steve shit his pants, jumped out of the chopper and ran for his life. At that moment he made a vow to himself that whatever happened, he would somehow make it home. Of all the men that he trained, fought and killed with, he was the only one that did.

I remember when he told me that story. He was trying to impress upon me that no matter what you might think or imagine about war, it will never come close to the reality. I used to speculate with him what it might have been like if I had been in battle with him. He would look me in the eye and say, "I would never want that to happen to you. You would never be the same. It is better that you stay the kind of person that you are." Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I probably would not have survived. Not that I could not have mastered the skills or learned to handle the strain. I just don’t think that I could have lived with what I would have become.

The man that Steve became though the experience of war was the man that he was destined to be. When he finally understood what war was about, he mastered it enough to stay alive and even excell at it.

I’ll tell you how Steve died.

He was living with us at the time. He was suffering from severe congestive heart failure and diabetes. He had already lost a couple of toes to abscesses that would not heal. I remember the day before; he and I had been at the gym and had spent a few minutes doing cardio. He couldn’t help but compete so I only wanted to work it for ten minutes at a stretch.

He had told me that he was looking forward to taking his place doing guard duty in a little corner of heaven. He wasn’t planning on reincarnating again.

The following morning, I got up and found him kneeling at the couch as if he were in prayer. I reached over and touched him and he was cold. I knew that he was gone.

If there was ever any other way for a true warrior to go out, this would be the way, surrounded by those that truly love him and kneeling in prayer. It is said that if you transition in an upright position, you will leave through the seventh charka. Transitioning in such a way guarantees that you will transition directly to heaven.

Of all the people that I have known that have passed, he is the only one who did not come to me in the first three days after passing, requesting me to seek out their loved ones and make sure that they were alright, or some other request.

Some days, I feel him standing next to me. He will whisper into my left ear and remind me of some truth or another. I guess I’m kind of lucky in a way, for me he has not gone and I can share time with him any time that he chooses to join me. Still, I miss Steve. Not a day goes by that I don’t ask myself, “What would Steve think of this?”

So Steve, I know that you’re up there on guard duty, and if not, I bet you’re “chasing the princess”.

I Love You Man. You’re the first brother that I ever knew.