Being a Patriot, is the obligation that goes part and parcel with being born to this nation and the only way to be certain that this nation shall, remain free.
Those that do not understand this, are already, slaves.
I saw that with people in New York City in the 1960s envying the French and Bohemian life style. I spoke with a few former German soldiers, one an ex-Waffen SS trooper. I spoke to two women that were French and, were in Paris 1940.
Much of the strict laws were made lax, as the country was getting over the great Depression in 1940. My mother (still alive), says here, we had it until 1938/1939. The women said there was little to eat and absolutely nothing to waste. Not food, not anything. The government in Paris let the people live as long as nothing like murder was going on. The old German soldiers said pretty much the same thing. The Waffen SS trooper said, people, begged for something easy. Anything easy and getting over, without hard work or pain. People were poor and lowered themselves and became poorer. Females, he said, were willing to have sex for half bottle of wine and three cigarettes. Where did it get them? Only lower. Only more depraved. Then what? Hitler took Paris, and all the people were fleeing or hiding, except for a few partisan resistance people, and they gave the German troops a damned good fight. Everyone else ran, because it was easier to run.
People here, want the soft, lax life. A baby will always want the mother’s teat, until they are made to, start eating solid food. Sin is sweet. It is hard for people to migrate towards a slightly bitter hard scrabble life, so they seek what is sweet, sin.
I remember going through hamlets that were hot with firefights. NVA Regulars, not untrained VC. Fighting was brutal and also on occasion hand to hand. I recall the smoke cover, smells, at times slow motion of mayhem. Looking down the gun sights while moving, where your eye goes, so does that front sight. You think as you were trained. I’m only a teenager then, and suddenly, people run towards us, shouting in Vietnamese, they are naked. Their hands up and fingers spread as they run past us. A woman runs past holding a naked baby by one leg upside down, and all I see are human figures, I do not think like a teenager. Any one of them could try to kill us, my finger on the trigger. A shot from a hut and it draws fire. We were not teenagers, we were “terminators” for lack of a better word. The people wanted nothing to do with dying, bleeding, and suffering.
In America, people will run to whatever feeds them, clothes them, houses them, no different from any domesticated house pet. But who do we notice? The old beat-up Tom cat, the battered junkyard dog, or the animals that live in freedom. Even the lion in the zoo, seeks Freedom, because it is bred into them.
Brittius is a United States USMC/DaNang Vietnam Veteran and true American Patriot