At a bachelor party in the prairies. Here for my friend’s wedding. I have nothing in common with these men in uniform, but am happy to be there, sharing in these times.
Had a long conversation with an airman, one of the groomsmen. I try not to let a meeting with a former soldier go without the question, “Why did you fight?” I’m always curious. Me, I’m not sure I could do what they do. So, I guess I want to know their reasons. For me, it’s unfathomable to put your life at stake. I always try to sue for peace.
But I look at my gift from the groom-to-be—a jagged pocketknife with my name etched in wood panels on the side. I wonder if I’ll ever truly need this weapon. Of course, I could keep it in its sleeve in a shelf. But the world is getting so dangerous. It flashes across the mind, keeping it with me. But who would bring a knife to a gun fight?
So, I sat with the airman and asked why he served. And he told me a story about an apparently famous video (I don’t watch news) of a journalist being burned alive by terrorists in the Middle East. He of course had seen the video before the public.
The general public’s response was they were unsure as to why the man in the video was not screaming prior to his ultimate demise. As the airman explained to me, they had actually tortured the man eleven times with the threat of the flames.
They would pulse toward him, but not engulf him.
The video the public saw was taken the twelfth time when the tortured man no longer had anything in him with which to exude said torture.
There were eleven times previous where the fire creeped toward him but did not reach him.
So, by the time the twelfth time rolled around, the fire finally consuming his body, he was not expecting it.
No emotion on tape.
The airman told me the reason why he fought was because there was such evil in the world as the people who could enact such brutality.
I have asked the question to many men and women over much time and never heard that answer.
I was left riven, grateful for him, grateful for all of them.
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