Unbroken by Laura Hiienbrand-

I read an article in the Washington Post yesterday that reminded me that we have servicemen/women still at war. One that has been going on for 10 years now.

Duh, you are thinking. But in all the melee of life, I honestly have put that on the back burner. Even after reading a book that detailed the startling sacrifice of those who serve us.

The book, Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand, was finally finished. It about broke me to read about the suffering, so I put it aside.

If you feel like you have personally been through a mission to bomb enemy air strips, had your plane torn almost in half, landed that plane a few hours later with most of your crew dealing with life threatening injuries, only to face getting bombed by Zeros, dispatched on a rescue mission, go down in your own plane into the Pacific where you and a couple of the crew commenced to float around the Pacific for over a month- If this is how you FEEL your life is going, don't pick up Unbroken. Cause it just gets worse.

But I finally sucked it up and read the worst of it. How Louie faced being a POW, the humiliation and degradation. Poor diet and beatings; expected to perform labors beyond the human imagination on that golf ball size of rice.

Being freed was only the beginning of the next onslaught of mental aftermath.

I was relieved to finish the book and breathe out a sigh of relief that the War is over! whew!

My reality check bounced with the recent news article:

'At a banquet consisting of Marines and business people in the St. Louis area, Lt. Gen. John F. Kelly spoke about the current war. Oh, and he requested that the person introducing him, not mention he'd just lost his son four days earlier. (The Washington Post, March 2, 2011- by Greg Jaffe)

'Without once referring to his son's death, the general delivered a passionate... speech about the miitary's sacrifices and its troops' growing sense of isolation from society.'

'" Their struggle is your struggle," he told the ballroom.' "If anyone thinks you can somehow thank them for their service, and not support the cause for which they fight- our country- these people are lying to themselves."

'Kelly is the most senior U.S. military officer to lose a son or daughter in Iraq or Afghanistan. He was giving voice to a growing concern among soldiers and Marines: The American public is largely unaware of the price its military pays to fight the United States' distant conflicts.'

Guilty. Seriously guilty.

I honestly have to admit that I have forgotten. Or conveniently put it out of my mind that 'breaking' suffering amongst those who serve in our military and those who are oppressed, is still going on.

J and I go on our little way to practice, games, the grocery store (moan). I grumble about the nearing of dinner time and having to actually make it when people like Louie Zamperini sat drifting in a yellow raft for 2k miles, and three times a day, 'mentally' prepare a meal for him and his castaway fellows.

With precision he would tell of the ingredients that his Italian mother would use to make spaghetti, the scents that would waft through the kitchen as it simmered and cooked on the stove. gulp.

Louie called out the names of the ingredients, if he forgot any, his mates would correct him. he'd even whip up some imaginary Pumpkin Pie. And then they would slowly "feast" on their meal, describing in exquisite detail how the meal 'tasted'.

Poor J, if he were in that situation I can see how pathetic the meal would seem to the men fighting... "My mom would bring the water and salt, if she remember, to a boil. Throw in the spaghetti and let it cook for 11 minutes. " sniff. "Then she would heat the canned sauce in the microwave and pour it over the noodles."

That sounds like a great meal memory, doesn't it? or heaven forbid if he has to try and recall the ingredients.

Heck, I can barely recall if I chewed my tortilla last night more than a few times before swallowing it in Olympic time in an attempt to hustle to the next thing on our critical to do list: bath, read, Pray, Sleep.

The Washington Post article gripped me by the throat and about made me choke on the sloppy job of chewing my food as I read Lt. Kelly's letter, sent home after all the fighting stopped being broadcast on T.V.:

'"It was weird to read mail again, a reminder that other people's lives go on while I am here."

In a letter to his friend Robert Kelly continued his plea for our attention, recognition and reverence: "Things have not been going so well. I am having a lot of trouble dealing with this. It is hard to explain right now... I just want to go home and see my family and friends, I really want to sit down with my dad and talk."

"Try to keep your eye on the news," he implored. "It will be good to know that people are paying attention to what the.. Marines with me will be accomplishing."

Shoot.

Robert, I can only say that I stood up at ball games and listened to the national anthem, looked at our beautiful big flag and tried to transport myself to what was paid, and is being paid. It's hard, to be here, where we are so blessed with the comforts of life, to place myself in your shoes. I am guilty of taking it for granted, grumbling about the gift to go to the grocery store, and griping about essentially trivial matters.

I want to thank the Kelly family, and the others, for that 'mental buffer'.

For standing in between all that mess and dealing with it so that I can have these times with J. I will do a better job at watching where the troops are going with a map. Maybe we need to start putting little pins on that map and put it out in the kitchen where we can see it, so we can follow the progress.

The Elder kelly, whose position enabled him to know details the public doesn't get, to see where his sons were at and what they were going through mailed family members: "I write to you all to just let you know he's in the thick of it and to keep him in your thoughts. We are doing a Novena a minute down here and there is no end in sight."

I don't even know what a Novena is...

In a final email before his son's death he wrote: "I am sweating bullets, Pray. Pray. Pray. He's a such a good boy.. and Marine."

Last night I actually mouthed the words of the place that our military is now fighting. Mind you it is a couple places. And how easy it is to just say 'bless the military'? and move to the asking for blessings part of prayer?

I don't know how to end this post. All I can say was it took a lot out of me to write it.