Where Have All the Young Men Gone?

I shouldn't be writing. I have a class starting in less than half an hour, but this can't wait.

This morning, during my commute, I heard the story of Army Sgt 1st Class Jared Monti who today will receive the Medal of Honor, posthumously. Monti is the second soldier fighting in Afghanistan to receive our nation's highest military honor. I don't know this man. I never heard of him before this morning's 10 minute radio broadcast and yet, I can barely form the words to describe the pain and anger I feel over his death. The anger I feel that a man who was described by his comrades as easy to talk to and protective of his soldiers. From the description shared by Staff Sgt. John Hawes it is clear that Monti tolerated little nonsense when it came to the safety of his soldiers. Monti insisted that he be the one to retrieve a lost comrade during his final fight against Taliban forces.

Hearing this story reminded me of the folk song: "Where Have All the Flowers Gone". American folk singer Pete Seeger wrote this song in 1961 and based his version on an earlier Russian folk song written between WWI and WWII. The sentiment expressed in this song--the loss of an entire generation of young men to graveyards and war--clearly crosses cultural and language boundaries and even generational ones. I was not alive to witness the loss of a generation to the jungles of Vietnam nor was I alive to witness the loss of a generation to the forests of Europe, jungles of the South Pacific, and the deserts of Africa. Yet, I am alive to witness the loss of my generation to the deserts and mountains of Afghanistan and Iraq.

This is what angers me more than anything. Sgt. Monti was a unique individual a man who wanted to serve his country. A man who understood the value and importance of what he was doing and who, in the end, reconciled himself to his life and his choices. Ultimately, I am in awe of him and others like him. I am saddened by the fact that he will not be around to encourage others to cultivate the same sense of honor and valor.

Here is a link to the original article from NPR: "A Medal of Honor for Sgt. Monti, Who Went to Save His Man"

Have you ever actually fainted? I have, a couple times. I got very sick-probably a stomach flu-about 3 years ago. I couldn't eat or drink anything for 4 days. Don't worry, I'll spare you the fabulous details. The first symptom I noticed was a overwhelming fatigue; really drained. After about a day without food I was starting to feel woozy while lying down. Later (but I'm not sure how much) I was in the bathroom when I got hot and cold all over at the same time, my lips got that tingly feeling like when my foot falls asleep. I really just wanted to lie down on the cool floor and take a little rest. I seriously frightened my dad (the only member of the house not sick) when he tried to open the door but couldn't cause my feet were blocking it. He was the one who explained that I fainted and insisted that I get back into bed. I remember arguing with him, saying that I was much more comfortable where I was. I mumbled that I was tired of lying in bed and wanted to stay on the cool floor. Fainting was the oddest feeling I ever experienced. It was really an overwhelming desire to sleep.

Since I started back to classes full time I've been exposed to lots of information about the N1H1 Virus and the necessity of flu shots and the different ways I can protect myself and others if I should happen to develop flu-like symptoms. This has got me thinking about the last time I got flu-like symptoms-granted a stomach flu rather than a head cold. This combined with reading historic romances-where women sometimes faint for effect-got me thinking about fainting.

Back to School

My Autumnal Resolution.

I don't usually make New Year's Resolutions. January feels so similar to December. Autumn has always been my favorite season. There's something about the smell of leaves the quality of the air & cool breezes. It's back to school. This year, I'm back to a full campus & a full schedule. I'm enjoying being surrounded by activity. I enjoy having a list of things to accomplish & even more I enjoy accomplishing them & scratching them off the list. As long as I keep thinking about those things I want to accomplish as future events, they loom large in my mind; they grow ever larger, darker, & twisted like a hedge maze out of a Gothic novel. When they are immediate things, tasks that can be broken up or accomplished in full within a few hours or a couple days, they remain bright & shiny beacons; the more I scratch off the list, the lighter I feel.

Here's to a semester--a year (two semesters)--full of bright & shiny beacons.