E-mail from Robert:
First let me say how much I love your show. It is more about facts and less about rhetoric, and I enjoy your banter with your team. I have switched to your show for my AM drive, from that other morning talk show, and I haven’t looked back. I only wish I had more time to devote to your program, but alas, we must make a living. I am just thankful I am not among the massive levels of the un-employed.
A little background about myself, so that you know where I am coming from. I am in my early 60’s, and a Viet Nam veteran (‘70-’71) and a conservative most of my life. I was raised in the mid-west, my parents a product of the depression, so life long democrats. My father was a factory worker (UAW) and while we never went hungry, with my two siblings my family was barely above the poverty level.
Weather it was my upbringing, the influence of my surroundings and environment or a combination of many things, I have a strong and deep love of my country. So when it was my time, I was happy to serve my country and do my small part to keep the forces of tyranny from crushing the people of South Viet Nam. I look back on my time “in-country” as we called it as one of the most valuable life experiences I have ever had.
To this day it is very very difficult for me to visit the Viet Nam War Memorial. An overwhelming sense of loss comes over me as I see the names and the mementos that people have left for my brothers. The sons, the daughters, the husbands, the brothers who gave that ultimate sacrifice so the people of another nation could live in freedom. Even as I write these words, my eyes fill and I am sad beyond words.
But I also and filled with a certain level of anger at that senseless loss. The combination of political constraints and the wailings of a misguided vocal minority did not allow our brave men and women to do their job effectively. And for that I have a great sadness in my heart.
But a fallen brother from another time put down in his writings home to his wife the feelings and dilemma that all those who serve feel at one time or another. I have attached below one of many links to a small segment from Ken Burn’s most excellent documentary of the Civil War. Please take a moment to watch/listen to this:
This is what I would offer as my small tribute to our fallen, so that those who have not served might take notice and support our service members and veterans in every way, and take a minuet as I do to shake their hand, look them in the eye and thank them for their service. I only wish someone had done that for me as I returned from my service.
May God bless the United Stated of America.
Here is the full letter from Major Sullivan Ballou, July 14, 1861:
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the brightest day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan
Sullivan was killed a week later in battle.
