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Elusive Sleep
I lie down with my weapons by my side, prepared for a battle that transpires only in my mind. Sleep eludes me, as my mind
flashes back to times when battle was a reality, and death was a constant companion. I should be safe now, those battles were
long ago and far away, but the carnage I see around me, the dead and broken bodies of today, allow me no rest. I watch as
my brothers and sisters throw themselves on the sacrificial altar of war, and ask myself why? Each death hits me like a hammer
blow, each missing limb and shattered soul make me want to cry out in anger. What possesses the young to fight? The invulnerability
of youth? Belief in a noble cause? Mom, baseball, and apple pie? I am not sure.
In Vietnam I thought I was fighting to protect my country, only to find out later that we were not allowed to win. Politics
and business dictated the direction of my war, and I often wonder how many of the 58,000 names on the Wall would be alive
today if only someone had the will to say "Enough!" I feel helpless and out of control, my voice a whimper on the
political stage. I want to tell those young soldiers, so full of life, that they are fragile, and precious, and loved, and
that they will be changed forever by the battles that they fight.
I will be there for them when they come home, when they seek the old soldiers, looking for comfort and companionship among
their fellow veterans. Some will sleep easy, the war a distant memory. Some will be like me, unable to sleep, fighting battles
in their minds that are as real as the day they happened. They will ask "When do the memories stop, when will I be at
peace?". I will be sad, because I will have no answer.
Ken Melkun - 2005
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