Whenever the politicians and diplomats get in a jam and don't know what to do to save their careers and access to political power, they call in the Marines to die or be maimed, then relegated to a corner of history once the elites are safe again. [A colleague reminds me that at least one of our state's politicians marks this day in his own way, too.] If you think that's cynical, you're right. It's also accurate.
Rudyard Kipling, when writing about the similar lot of the common British soldier, or "Tommy", composed the following verse:
It's Tommy this, and Tommy that,
And chuck him out the brute,
But it's 'Savior of his Country,'
When the guns begin to shoot!
Or, apparently, when it begins to rain.
Here's to 238 years of honor, duty, and faithfulness. Even though these values are misunderstood and sometimes ridiculed by the New York Times/National Public Radio/university faculty crowd, and made cartoonish by Hollywood puzzlewits, they are practiced and borne on a great deal of real blood.
[And here's to Scott and Jeff, real guys who did their job. Scott was as squared away as a Marine could be; Jeff enjoyed outraging the sergeants whenever possible. History has never heard of them and that's okay. We knew them and are the better for it.]
