Our brothers go off to war

When I was little, my mom had a faded photograph on her dresser that was cracked and rolling at the edges. It was of a handsome man in khaki green standing next to a old Army jeep. That man was my uncle, her baby brother. My uncle had gone to war in Vietnam, and, she said, was never really the same ever after. He went to fight in an unpopular war, and although he may have come back to his home country to scorn and derision from the populace, he never lost the love and respect of his family, his sister.

My baby brother left this last weekend to go to war. To go and fight in another unpopular conflict. He has been once already, and he is not the same carefree young man I remember. He likely will never be again. But he will remain in our hearts, and he will never lose the love and respect of his family, his sister.

I salute you, brother. Take care of yourself and come home to us.