No greater love…
There have been too few honours accorded those who walk furthest in harm’s way, and face nearly unendurable hardships and danger in the service of this Long War. Too often their sacrifices have been denigrated, or wrapped tight behind the cloak of secrecy.
But on rare occasion, the magnitude of a man’s actions may speak louder than the silent profession. The example set by such a man rises far above the fleeting fashions of the chattering classes, and demonstrates the truth of a warrior’s lasting legacy.
Michael Monsoor is such a man. And in him see all those who served in the shadows, to suffer for their comrades in arms without a word of any faint praise. In him know the willing choice to bear the full brunt of war’s energies so that others might fight through to victory. He was among the best of them all.
In the words of that oldest of warrior's poetry:
Here dwell I no longer, for Destiny calleth me! Bid thou my warriors after my funeral pyre.
h/t Haft of the Spear