The Heart of a Marine

 

By Robert Hudson Westover

Once a Marine always a Marine is what we say.

Why?

We can be “out” of active duty for decades, be 100-years-old and received a dozen other honors But In the Mind of an honorable Marine there is only ONE honor and that was earned upon graduation when in a ceremony reminiscent of those of the Legions of Rome we are called, for the first time, Marines!

We Marines are the most mentally and physically powerful warriors in world history.

WE HAVE NEVER LOST A MAJOR BATTLE UNDER MARINE COMMAND

Not one!

Why?

Marines are men of Providence

We believe in Destiny

You do not sign up to serve in the equivalent of a Medieval knighthood not believing, not knowing that this is your Destiny and that she controls the very Fates.

 A Marine enters into battle knowing HE may LIVE or DIE but either outcome does not matter to HIM.

 It is only his HONOR that matters.

 And a true Marine will die before being made to dishonor himself.

 A true Marine will march into hell to fight for his country, for God, for what and who he LOVES.

 So even when HE is “out” of active duty a true Marine never stops being a Marine.

 I once witnessed a vehicular accident where a woman suddenly became trapped in her car.

Her door would not open, and gasoline was pouring out from under the wreckage.

All stood at a safe distance and watched—afraid to help her but not a Marine that happened to be on the scene.

He got out of his car, yanked open the jammed door and got the woman out taking her away from danger.

That Marine knew he could die that afternoon…

That Marine fought the demons of death, of fear of cowardice of dishonor.

But…

That Marine knew that if he were to just sit there in his car and watch her die, helpless in a flaming wreck, HE could NEVER live with himself.

So, having been “out” of active duty for a longtime that Marine mentally and in an instant:

Put on his breast plate of courage,

Grabbed his shield of resolve,

And with the sword of bravery in his hand,

the blood of generations of warriors pumping through his veins,

the helmet of honor on his head,

HE did what a Marine does.

Fortunately, fire trucks arrived a few minutes later and the car never ignited but that didn’t matter to the Marine.

He knew the potential of what COULD have very realistically happened.

All that mattered was he did not hesitate, nor let fear paralyze him—making him a coward—dishonor.

No, that would not happen to him that day—or ANY FUCKING DAY He was STILL a MARINE.

OORAH

Author's note: The Marine mentioned in this poem was me. What I don't say is that my spouse had to watch me as I left the car. He was quite angry when I returned but he also understood why I did it. Our running joke is "Mothers don't let you children grow up to marry Marines!"