Read Online Letters from War by Mark Schultz - Free Book Online Page B

strength to make it through their loss. Please help them come together and come closer to You.
    A name and a number on television aren’t just a name and a number to her. She is going to ask a friend to look up those families so she can send them a card. A mother of an MIA to a mother of a KIA. She knows she has a right to send a card and share her condolences. Yet Beth still admits that she doesn’t know what they’re going through. Not yet.
    Is it getting worse or is it just me?
    She thinks of the key ring with the carved seed on it, the one she gave to James some time ago. She is reminded of the gift from a friend and what that tiny seed stands for.
    Faith.
    It was given to her shortly after James was deployed to Iraq that first time. Ironically, the person who gave it to her, who told her never to give up believing, was Josie. The same person who was encouraging her to let go of James now.
    I wonder where that key ring is today. I wonder if whoever took James took that from him.
    The news is a reminder for her to keep believing even amid the tragedy. Every day, if she carefully waits for it, there will be some kind of bad news coming out of Afghanistan. Yet she has to remind herself why the soldiers are there and what they stand for.
    As she finds her car keys to head out of the house, Beth remembers what she told James just before his graduation day.

James

    DECEMBER 15, 2006
    They spoke in controlled and deliberate unison, strong and emphatic and concise.
    â€œI am the infantry,” they called out. “I am my country’s strength in war, her deterrent in peace. I am the heart of the fight—wherever, whenever. I carry America’s faith and honor against her enemies. I am the queen of battle.”
    The words were ones James knew by heart simply because they resided there.
    â€œI am what my country expects me to be: the best-trained soldier in the world. In the race for victory, I am swift, determined, and courageous, armed with a fierce will to win.”
    They weren’t nameless, faceless figures in full dressstanding at attention on this cold winter day. Every one of them was watched over with love by the spectators who stood before them.
    â€œNever will I fail my country’s trust. Always I fight on—through the foe, to the objective, to triumph over all. If necessary, I fight to my death.”
    The men around James would always be his brothers. They had all arrived at Fort Benning as boys. And they were all leaving as more than men.
    â€œBy my steadfast courage, I have won two hundred years of freedom. I yield not—to weakness, to hunger, to cowardice, to fatigue, to superior odds. For I am mentally tough, physically strong, and morally straight.”
    They were now following in great and mighty footsteps.
    â€œI forsake not—my country, my mission, my comrades, my sacred duty.”
    They were now shadowed by legends and ready to step out in the sun.
    â€œI am relentless. I am always there, now and forever.”
    They were and would always carry this designation.
    â€œI am the infantry! Follow me!”
    The designation as infantrymen.
    This was what it felt like to have brothers. Guys who could wrestle you down on the ground and shove your face into the dirt until you hollered in submission. Guys who could mock you about the girl back home and theway you talked about her all the time. Guys who could stand alongside you and be willing to step in front of you to take a bullet one day.
    Brothers.
    James had always wondered what it would be like. Boot camp had been a series of out-of-body experiences. The father he barely knew was his drill instructor. The brothers he never had were his teammates.
    James thought of this as he stood in the row listening and sounding off and standing straight.
    The guys standing around him—they weren’t guys to just hang out with. They weren’t video-playing buddies. They weren’t snowboarding buddies. These