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It is a soldier’s duty to defend his country, a soldier’s duty to protect the people and sometimes while performing that duty sometimes a soldier pays the ultimate price. During the Canterlot invasion a soldier paid such a price, he left the world without so much as a thought, but he was not forgotten. Another soldier remembered his name and now he stands before a simple stone to speak to what he had lost.
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I really liked this chapter. I hope to see more soon.
Oh, this is getting interesting.
4316431 4316540
I'm afraid this was a one-shot. Still, it was nice to work on something short after how long RC took. We even kinda knew what we were doing here!
4317407
Yay
There are still some obvious grammar errors here and there but that doesn't mean it was bad. I still understood what the story was telling and it was very good. It touches me because I'm joining the Marines myself. I have been training with them for over a year now and I finally get to sign my papers to officially enlist sometime between now and the 19th of May. Kind of a nice coincidence that this story came out during this time. I know what I am signing up for. Not for the money. Not for the status. Not for the achievement. Not for the title. I'm signing up so that others can live, even if I have to die.
Here's a nice excerpt for you:
"The United States Marines Code of Conduct"
Article I: I am an American, fighting in the forces which guard my country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.
Article VI: I will never forget that I am an American, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free. I will trust in my God and in the United Sates of America.
These are two of my most favorite articles.
Very nice one-shot. It sort of reminded me of Saving Private Ryan. A fine testament to a terrible experience that many soldiers everywhere have to endure.
P.S. Manly Tears were shed.
4318033 You have the right of it. Truth is that I too was considering joining up for a while. I kind of still am, mainly for the same reason that you are. I want to become more disciplined, and do something where I truly feel like I am making a difference in the world, at the same time giving service to this country that I still love, no matter what happens.
Well, either way, the best of luck to you! You do our nation proud!
My eyes actually watered in this story. Especially at the end of that author's note
keep up the good work
(Survivor's Guilt)
You sir have done your job:
The feels man, the feels
This made me cry, but in a good way. Reading things like this make me just so thankful for those who put their lives on the line to protect all of us. Great writing indeed.
Did anyone else get a bit of a Saving Private Ryan vibe?
4318033
Good luck out there, it won't hurt.
I know what he's feeling.
God Bless, bro'. Semper Fidelis
listen to this while reading this
This one has been around for a while, and the last comment came over a year ago, but I'm going to inject some new words. Like everything in the universe, there are things here that I could nitpick, but I'm going to shut up about those things because the emotional weight of this work takes every bit of the nitpick and stomps it into oblivion. The feels are just drenching these words. I was sent here by the recommendation of a friend, and I'm happy I took him up on the suggestion -- despite the fact that the piece is so heartwrenching.
Well done. Thumps up from me good sir.
I needed this. I really, really needed this.
My first six months in the military has been trying in ways I never imagined. I was ready for the stress of constantly being pushed into failure. I was ready to be yelled out. I was ready to be so exhausted that I lost all feeling. Those things were easy, even enjoyable at times.
The real trial was being sidelined. Getting a concussion from a fellow Officer Cadet while on training was unfortunate, but I pushed through it for a month. Getting taken off course after reaching out to medical authorities was disappointing, but I knew that my duty at that time was to heal so that I could return to training. And so I spent a month watching my fellow recruits, men and women that I had known for only a couple of months but already trusted with all I had, go through grueling and downright brutal training. They would drop to do pushups, and I had to stand and watch. They had to swap rooms and be ready for inspection in less time than we get to shower, and I had to stand aside and let them move my kit, my bed, and my belongings for me. They spent hours practicing for our final parade, and I had to sit on the bleachers and watch. At times I even got left behind to rest, even sleep, in my room while I knew that they were going through hell.
I was with them for it all, a liability, a burden. I hated it. I hated myself for pulling them down, for weakening the Flight. They were there for me, and I would have been there for them but for my medical orders. I wanted to be there for them, and it tore me apart that I couldn't. Hopelessness and helplessness crept in, and depression returned.
Four months in I'm still concussed. I'm still depressed. The doctors estimate an eighteen to twenty four month recovery. My file is being sent off for review, and I may be medically released. I was so close to giving up. Every day I struggle to see the point in putting that uniform on. I am in constant pain. I am a liability to the team. I can't fight; I can't protect those I care for from the worst humanity can produce.
But that's not what it's all about, is it? Everyone who didn't make it home went up against the impossible and failed. We celebrate them, not for their success, but for giving it their all even when they could not possibly make it, for not hesitating in their decision, for being steadfast in their service. That's what makes them heroes. That is the standard we look up to every day. We strive to worthy to carry their mantle forward, to march onwards in their memory and honour. They gave everything they had and more. We cannot help but feel unworthy unless we show that same devotion, that same drive, that they did.
I know that I will never be a hero. That isn't why I do what I do. I am here to serve the memory of those heroes who went before. I am here to serve those heroes who are still with us. Every day I will do everything in my power to one day be someone worthy to lead those heroes, to help them live up to their incredible potential, and to serve them with everything I have. It is an impossible task. I will do everything I can to be worthy of them, knowing that I will never succeed. I will devote myself to spending every second trying to do better despite the fact it will never be enough. And I pray with every act I do that somehow, when my service is over, that I came close to being more than a black mark on their legacy.
I am Officer Cadet Singaram, D80 901 664, Infantry Officer 00180. I am not perfect. I will not ever be. But I will remember. I will honour the victorious dead. And in their memory I will never give up.