Are there any writers here. Not tech books but non-fiction or fiction, sifi too, writers. I'm thinking we should start a thread to share our bits of thoughts no matter how outrageous they might be.
What I'm about to share is a true story that happened to me in El Paso, TX back in January of 2002.
This is posted not as a political statement but simply as an expression of facts and my perception of events as best I remembered them eight days later.
Where is Your Flag?
I'm a truck driver so its natural you see, a lot of people don't think I accept responsibility. Always on the road, always away from home, just a happy-go-lucky life they think I live. They have no idea just how hard the life of a trucker is or that home is all around me. And so too are a lot of other things. Take our flag for instance, I see it everywhere. Since September Eleventh it's sprouted up like corn on the Illinois prairie. And in fact it’s become so common a thing to see, I am no longer surprised when I see it.
In truth it has become fashionable to wear the flag or its banner as a part of your wardrobe. And that is so common that when not seen, others wonder why you are not wearing a flag, or a ribbon of red, white and blue. Trust me, they harbor no reserve in coming out and confronting someone who isn't wearing the symbol of this great nation. Why just the other day, a man I didn't know approached me in a truck stop demanding to know: "Where is Your Flag?"
I answered him with, "It's right where it’s always been." You see I understood his real question, which was, "Where is your display of patriotism." He did not understand my real response because he snapped back at me with: "Look here now, I'm wearing my flag, where is yours?" I could see that indeed he was "wearing his flag". Trouble is, it was backward and so askew that I was not sure if he was in distress or just unkempt, but, sure enough, he was wearing it. I answered him again, "My flag is right where it's always been. And then I began to wonder: Where was his flag? No, not the one I could see, but the one he could not show me.
Where was his flag, on the 10th of September?
Where was his flag, when others like me were standing watch in the snow of Valley Forge?
Where was his flag, when I stood guard at Fort McHenry, on a night filled with fright?
Where was his flag, on the night before the attack on Fort Sumter, while I sat in wonder at what the morrow would bring?
Where was his flag, in the days preceding the sinking of the Maine, in Havana harbor?
And where was his flag, the day before the sinking of the Lusitania, or on Saturday the Sixth of December 1941?
Did he wear his flag, while my father and uncles were braving the foe at Inchon or the Chinese and cold of the Frozen Chosin?
Where was his flag, while my brothers and I were braving heat and fear in the steaming jungle and rice patties of South Vietnam?
Perhaps he wore his flag while my sons were giving it a go in Grenada, or Panama, or Somalia, or Lebanon, or a dozen other brush fires?
Or perhaps the day before the last war we fought in the Gulf. Back in the 90's when we took on that self-appointed mastermind of military strategy, Saddam Hussian?
Yes I wondered all this and something else. Why does it take a crisis to bring out the patriotism in most Americans? Now don't misunderstand, I'm thrilled to see this new display of our flag, I just wonder why it has taken so long. But I could see he was still waiting to hear where my flag was, so I answered him again; "My flag is right where it has always been." And then I proceeded to tell him how I was wearing my flag.
Taking off my cover I said, "See here friend, here on my hat, these are the symbols of my flag. This ribbon is representative of the Purple Heart Medal. It is given in time of war to those who have shed blood in our nations service. And here is the Combat Action Ribbon; it represents service in combat with an armed and deadly enemy. And this is the Vietnam Campaign Ribbon, it shows in what theater of war I served.
"So how do these ribbons represent my flag? Well let’s look at them again. The Purple Heart is the RED of my blood, shed in combat. The Vietnam Campaign represents the WHITE of my gallantry, honor, and valor, for my willingness to enter into combat in an "unpopular war" that others might live free. And the Combat Action is the BLUE of my courage and patriotism showing my acceptance that I might die in that combat.”
"Now look at these devices. Here is the device which shows that I serve as an officer in the service of my country. And this device shows that I am a Chief Warrant Officer. Together, all these things represent over twenty years of service to my country." Then I said to him, "There my friend is my flag, I wear it proudly for all to see."
He slunk away in what I hoped was shame and I thought: "Here again is another of the "sunshine patriots"." Perhaps a draft dodger, run away to Canada rather than serve the honor of his family and country. Maybe even one of the hippie war protesters, his flag to wave so long as we are in "popular" danger, then put away until the next crisis. He'll never know the honor he has denied himself, the rights he has turned away from, or the gallantry and valor of standing up and being counted when it matters. He will continue to "wear his flag" but it will not appear to have the dignity of mine, and he will always wonder why I'm not wearing my flag. I know I need never hide my face in shame for not wearing "MY FLAG”. Yes, it is right where it has always been, flying to the fore. I wear it proudly for all to see.
So tell me friend: “Where Is Your Flag?”
Llance, CWO2, USCG (ret.)
C/W Jan 6, 2002
What I'm about to share is a true story that happened to me in El Paso, TX back in January of 2002.
This is posted not as a political statement but simply as an expression of facts and my perception of events as best I remembered them eight days later.
Where is Your Flag?
I'm a truck driver so its natural you see, a lot of people don't think I accept responsibility. Always on the road, always away from home, just a happy-go-lucky life they think I live. They have no idea just how hard the life of a trucker is or that home is all around me. And so too are a lot of other things. Take our flag for instance, I see it everywhere. Since September Eleventh it's sprouted up like corn on the Illinois prairie. And in fact it’s become so common a thing to see, I am no longer surprised when I see it.
In truth it has become fashionable to wear the flag or its banner as a part of your wardrobe. And that is so common that when not seen, others wonder why you are not wearing a flag, or a ribbon of red, white and blue. Trust me, they harbor no reserve in coming out and confronting someone who isn't wearing the symbol of this great nation. Why just the other day, a man I didn't know approached me in a truck stop demanding to know: "Where is Your Flag?"
I answered him with, "It's right where it’s always been." You see I understood his real question, which was, "Where is your display of patriotism." He did not understand my real response because he snapped back at me with: "Look here now, I'm wearing my flag, where is yours?" I could see that indeed he was "wearing his flag". Trouble is, it was backward and so askew that I was not sure if he was in distress or just unkempt, but, sure enough, he was wearing it. I answered him again, "My flag is right where it's always been. And then I began to wonder: Where was his flag? No, not the one I could see, but the one he could not show me.
Where was his flag, on the 10th of September?
Where was his flag, when others like me were standing watch in the snow of Valley Forge?
Where was his flag, when I stood guard at Fort McHenry, on a night filled with fright?
Where was his flag, on the night before the attack on Fort Sumter, while I sat in wonder at what the morrow would bring?
Where was his flag, in the days preceding the sinking of the Maine, in Havana harbor?
And where was his flag, the day before the sinking of the Lusitania, or on Saturday the Sixth of December 1941?
Did he wear his flag, while my father and uncles were braving the foe at Inchon or the Chinese and cold of the Frozen Chosin?
Where was his flag, while my brothers and I were braving heat and fear in the steaming jungle and rice patties of South Vietnam?
Perhaps he wore his flag while my sons were giving it a go in Grenada, or Panama, or Somalia, or Lebanon, or a dozen other brush fires?
Or perhaps the day before the last war we fought in the Gulf. Back in the 90's when we took on that self-appointed mastermind of military strategy, Saddam Hussian?
Yes I wondered all this and something else. Why does it take a crisis to bring out the patriotism in most Americans? Now don't misunderstand, I'm thrilled to see this new display of our flag, I just wonder why it has taken so long. But I could see he was still waiting to hear where my flag was, so I answered him again; "My flag is right where it has always been." And then I proceeded to tell him how I was wearing my flag.
Taking off my cover I said, "See here friend, here on my hat, these are the symbols of my flag. This ribbon is representative of the Purple Heart Medal. It is given in time of war to those who have shed blood in our nations service. And here is the Combat Action Ribbon; it represents service in combat with an armed and deadly enemy. And this is the Vietnam Campaign Ribbon, it shows in what theater of war I served.
"So how do these ribbons represent my flag? Well let’s look at them again. The Purple Heart is the RED of my blood, shed in combat. The Vietnam Campaign represents the WHITE of my gallantry, honor, and valor, for my willingness to enter into combat in an "unpopular war" that others might live free. And the Combat Action is the BLUE of my courage and patriotism showing my acceptance that I might die in that combat.”
"Now look at these devices. Here is the device which shows that I serve as an officer in the service of my country. And this device shows that I am a Chief Warrant Officer. Together, all these things represent over twenty years of service to my country." Then I said to him, "There my friend is my flag, I wear it proudly for all to see."
He slunk away in what I hoped was shame and I thought: "Here again is another of the "sunshine patriots"." Perhaps a draft dodger, run away to Canada rather than serve the honor of his family and country. Maybe even one of the hippie war protesters, his flag to wave so long as we are in "popular" danger, then put away until the next crisis. He'll never know the honor he has denied himself, the rights he has turned away from, or the gallantry and valor of standing up and being counted when it matters. He will continue to "wear his flag" but it will not appear to have the dignity of mine, and he will always wonder why I'm not wearing my flag. I know I need never hide my face in shame for not wearing "MY FLAG”. Yes, it is right where it has always been, flying to the fore. I wear it proudly for all to see.
So tell me friend: “Where Is Your Flag?”
Llance, CWO2, USCG (ret.)
C/W Jan 6, 2002
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