He survived malaria, several amphibious landings, dysentary, sewed patches for extra cash, clean up detail in the Zig Zag pass and came home after two years to find his oldest son runnin the streets, his youngest son in an orphanage and his wife in an asylum--and he pulled it all together.
>DD>Combat makes you tough or dead or insane or a combination of all three.
Gramps told me more than once as the toll of the years took him, "I saw men die of less than a scratch, and I saw men live and recover the most frightening injuries right next to me, and I have come to believe that you will die when it's your time. When your time is up, your time is up."
Mark my words, war is coming. China has the neutron bomb, and Russia is falling into dangerous pieces. Europe will draw closer but Russia will not be allowed to join NATO for the very reason that most of it's people are way West of Siberia. China sits just South of this icebox which is vast, underpopulated and containing one fifth of the worlds uncut timber, one eighth of the worlds natural gas, oil and other resources as China upgrades, modernizes and expands its Army.
Meanwhile, back in the original old world, more petty dictators, strongmen and zealots use their oil money to dabble in all the black arts--nuclear, chemical and biologic spells of mass evil death.
See the world now before it gets eaten by a Disney Village or vaporized by fallout.
Yeah, we need a real sun in the eyes, sweat runnin' down the forehead kind of war. A real get your ass shot off kind of affair.
While the Bhudda cry out for desire, prophets sing for the Jihad, and the sage stumble about in the humblest of attire, the ultimate rush is throwing your life into the fire.
What separates the men from the boys is simple, after all. Harmonics aside. It's a matter of Belief.M
Time to head off to the third world. The only real war here, the battle between the sexes, has lost it's luster.
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