By Ray Starmann
Now, that you’re gone Joe, I just wanted to say thanks for everything you’ve done for the country.
You were around a long time, all the way back to 1775. You waged a lot of battles, fought plenty of bad guys and helped bring down evil empires.
You crossed the Delaware with Washington, trudged endlessly through the steaming jungles of the South Pacific, climbed Pointe du Hoc to save the world and battled sandstorms and Jihadis from the 73 Easting to Tal Afar.
They called you Yankee Doodle, Rabble in Arms, Billy and Johnny, Doughboy, Soldier, Grunt, Trooper, but perhaps the greatest title they bestowed upon you was GI Joe; Government Issue Joe.
Sometimes you were a draftee, other times a volunteer, but all the time you stood for one thing above all, VICTORY.
You didn’t want to be there; you wanted to be home with your family, or at a ball game, or at your job. But, you did what you had to do and you did it heroically and magnificently.
You have known what it is like to be filthy and frozen and afraid. You have endured and experienced things that no one else can understand, especially the people that wanted to destroy you.
Make no mistake about it Joe; they didn’t want you around anymore.
You weren’t perfect; you swore, you drank, you brawled; you associated with women you wouldn’t introduce to your mother. But, the world knew you as the “Good Guy”, the guy in uniform who always had a spare ration or some extra chocolate for a child, and who delivered it with a smile.
Little did you know that it wouldn’t be a bullet that killed you, but political correctness and left-wing radicals who have never spent a moment in your blue and gray and khakis, in your jungle fatigues and ACU’s.
Some call it progress, some call it social engineering; I call it the death of the US Army.
I know you turned to your leaders for help. As usual, your sergeants did their best. But, they only have so much power. Next, you went to your lieutenants and captains. But, they were young and just trying to survive in a system that was crumbling from within. Then, you approached your field grade officers, the majors and colonels. You thought they could help. But, they were too busy rising in the ranks to care.
Next were the people with the real power; the brass, the generals. Finally, you thought, help was on the way. No doubt these men would save you. But, you thought wrong, Joe. They couldn’t have cared less about you. Oh, they said they were behind you, during graduation speeches or base visits. But, their promises, like their character were empty.
They said they needed you. But, in the end, all they needed was another star, or more retirement benefits or a defense contractor job after they had sold you out and the nation with you.
I know you pleaded with them Joe. You told them what would happen if you were gone, but they didn’t care. Your cries went unanswered. Their moral cowardice and greed and irresponsibility were the cause of your death.
To quote that man of wisdom, Don Vito Corleone, “You will always be betrayed by those closest to you;” as you were betrayed Joe.
Now, that you’re gone, we won’t forget you, how could we, after everything you’ve done for us. No doubt, there will be a time when we wish you were still around, believe me. It’s coming. Only our enemies seem to understand the disaster we’re embarking on. We are too blinded by our own weakness, political correctness and sensitivity to save you. Your death is celebrated by those who think that by destroying you they are being progressive.
Of course, those that destroyed you won’t be around when the reckoning takes place. They never are. They’ll be retired or at another government agency or at some left-wing think tank. They’ll be safely tucked away when the New Army, the Great Woke Social Experiment takes the field and loses it over and over and over again to a myriad of the nation’s enemies.
Then and only then will the public cry out for you and wonder how we could have possibly let you slip away into a death slumber. By then, it will be too late.