THE GHOST OF A SOLDIER
Visualize if you will the ghost of a GI somewhere in Belgium on Christmas Eve of 1944 as he clutches his M-l rifle with frostbitten fingers. He stands with frozen feet knee-deep in the snow, weak from lack of food, fatally wounded by constant enemy artillery and heartbroken from the eternity away from his loved-ones.
He is sickened by the death and carnage of war.
He looks at us through lifeless eyes, inflamed with anger and disgust.
He tells us through clenched teeth:
"I died for your birthright bestowed by your forefathers in the Constitution and now you allow school boards to graduate your children too illiterate to comprehend its meaning.
"I fought in the freezing hell of the Ardennes for your freedom to vote and you stay home because the line is too long or the weather is bad.
"I left my family alone and heart-broken to guarantee your freedom of speech and you remain silent on controversial issues because you're afraid to offend.
"I orphaned my children to ensure you a government of the people, by the people, and for the people and now you have allowed it to steal your democracy from you.
"It is I, the soldier, not the president who tolerates your freedom to choose your soul-mate.
"It is I, the soldier, not your Congressman, who grants you freedom of expression.
"It is I, the soldier, not the Attorney General who demands that your protection granted by the Bill of Rights be honored.
"It is I, the soldier, not the priest or rabbi who provides your right to worship whomever, however you wish.
"It is I, the soldier, not the political activist, who allows you the right to demonstrate.
"And it is I, the soldier, who follows the flag, who fights for the flag and whose dead body is embraced by the flag, who permits the protester to bum the beloved flag.
"And it is, for damn sure, just about time you did something about it!"
The Bulge Bugle, The Official Publication
Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge
Lester R. King
643rd Tank Destroyer Battalion