week 12 blog 2: A Kind of Flying

 “From the mountains high, To the wave-crashed coast, There’s a way to find, Better days, I know. It’s been a long hard ride, Got a ways to go, But this is still the place, That we all call home”

This is the song my best friend, Connor, more like a brother would sing whenever we returned to America. Sure it was annoying but, hey, I could not help but smile. We both are soldiers, I am a Major and he is my second in command. We both lead our team, our newfound family. Who ever said you can’t pick your family was right. Our team, our family picked us. Every time we returned to our motherland a sense of peace over came us. Though we some times lost some of our family members, we still knew that hope would remain.

However, things changed for me when Connor died, when he sacrificed himself for our family. I remember how I felt, many would have said he was foolish, but I thought he was brave. Many men would die our country, but not many men would die for family. My brigade and I went to honor him, and our other fallen brothers and sisters. Unstoppable tears over came my eyes, as the guns blast thundered across the sky. I never realized how hard it was to leave anyone behind, even when they are on sacred ground.

I remember the party they held for us, for my brigade, for my family. I was called on stage, to receive a medal, for my heroism. When the President presented the medal to me, I was enraged. I was to be honored for being alive. I looked at everyone, anger clear on my face, I even notice my family was scared. I shouted loud, my voice echoed throughout the place, it was clear how I felt. My voice boomed as I pointed to the sacred ground,

“How can you honor me? I did nothing, sure, I lead my team through thick and thin; however, I’m no hero. My fallen comrades, my fallen family they gave their lives for this country. They gave their lives so that you can be free. So don’t honor me, a soldier still alive. No, salute the dead; they are your heroes. This medal is for them…”

When I threw the medal on high, I was suspired to hear, the thunderous noise of cheers. They all agreed with me even the President pat my back. So now when I visit that place were the fallen rest, I sing a song. I sing for all of the heroes that died for you and me. Though we go through hard times, though we go through loss, this place is still our home.

“From the mountains high, To the wave-crashed coast, There’s a way to find, Better days, I know. It’s been a long hard ride, Got a ways to go, But this is still the place, That we all call home”