By Matthew A. Comini

(Our resident soldier/writer reminds us why he fights)

I was listening to Darryl Worley, and for the first time his music irked me. I used to hear his song and sense patriotism, but when I heard him sing, "Have You Forgotten", today, I was thinking to myself, that, no I have not fucking forgotten a goddamned thing, shut the fuck up, stop playing this tripe, because in as much as your America thinks that you are being patriotic, jackass, you are only creating a sentiment in my America that forces me to fight a war that to you is only an opportunity to extend fame.

People will often times urge others to go and give a black eye, but that is an easy thing for them to do when they themselves sit back with polished nails adorning unsullied gloved fingers. They too soon forget that the act of smacking someone in the face requires the use of an ugly bare fist. Whose fist there, pretty boy country guy? Mine! My knuckles will be filleted and bleeding while you rub the sticky salve of wantoness into your own.

Go away with your sentimental thoughts of pride. They get me absolutely nowhere but back onto the hatred poisoned streets of Tikrit. Your idea of just retribution leaves me with ghosts and mangled bones. Shake my hand, punk, pick up your M4, don a hundred pounds of gear, and take a long walk in a day of my sweaty life.

Breathe my battle, taste my air, swallow humanity, feel my death, and pull a fucking trigger. I assure you that then you will change your tune real fucking fast!

I am an American soldier. I am a horse with a name. I have loved ones, a family, a life and a home that I am damned proud of. I have wants, desires, needs and dreams. I am living flesh and blood. I will fight, but I will not wage a war fueled by vanity and ignorance. I am not trash to be burned by the pyre of fame and fortune.