Men don't always fight for their comrades. Some fight for money, or glory. But the best - the ones who fight hardest, and are most reluctant to give up, who sacrifice the most - those fight for their comrades, their "Band of Brothers".
What if you don't have a Shakespeare? You do what you can, with what you have. If what you have is Steven Ambrose, Tom Hanks, and Stephen Spielberg, that's not bad, either.
Pay attention especially to Babe Heffron at 1:40, where he tells about his buddy who told him to stay in his foxhole, and went in his place. And took his bullet.
For that "Band of Brothers", they ended with recognition of what they did: ending a World War and ushering in perhaps a century of peace.
And what their buddies who died, did.
Sixty-five years is a long time. It's long enough for the world to forget those who died. The living remember. That's what makes this so terrible:
God Speed, PFC Juan S. Restrepo. It was truly said - although few today listen - that:
Gentlemen inWe can only hope, if there's hope for this Republic. ASM826 wrote another must-read post about the war in Afghanistan. About what we're fighting for. It's different today than it was 65 years ago. Ugly, even.
EnglandAmerica now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day
I wonder how Juan Restrepo will be remember'd, 65 years from now. By whom he will be remember'd. Although it's a stone cold fact that he'll be remember'd by Salvatore A. Giunta.
Where this Republic finds men like Restrepo and Giunta is a deep mystery. If the Good Lord smiles down on this Republic, we will continue to find them. Even for a cause such as this.
I fear that it will prove not to be so.
But we in it shall be remember'd,
We few, we happy few.
We Band of Brothers.
Come thou no more for Ransom, gentle Herald,
they shall have none, I swear.