When I was younger, my dad and I used to talk alot.
He was in the Navy during the first part of my life, and continued to hold para-military carreers long after that. He also went to college in the down time, he was a history Major.
When I was 8, I got to stay with him for a longer time then usual. He was working for complany that protected factories when union workers went on strike. He was a Tac Team Commander, and he used the things he learned in history, about the greeks, and the spartans and how they used their sheilds. He taught his men how to work as a unit, using techniques severel hundred years old.
And when I was with him, he taught me. He taught me how when you are on the line, your left arm protects the man to your left, and your right strikes out for the man on your right. How each man is neither the weakest or the strongest link. The chain as a whole is not measured link by link, but together as one.
I listened as he spoke. And he would have me hold his big plexiglass sheild. I could barely lift that thing then...
He taught me about the Agoge, about The Commanche Warriors society, about all the ways soldiers had taught their young men how to become soldiers the world over.
He taught me how to use the terrain around you, he even cited the battle at Thermopoli. He told me how to use the elements, nature, weather, animals. Anything I had to overcome my opponents.
He told me about honor, discipline, justice. Brotherhood. I didnt really understand it. But I Remembered it all.
He showed me how he and his men would advance as one, and retreat as one. How each and everyone of them was important, and had to stay vigalant.
And I sat, legs mostly under that sheild, listening. Trying to memorize everything he said. Every block and move he demonstrated.
I imagined all my life what it would be like to be on that line. To train, and fight with other soldiers I knew and trusted. And to feel that rush I felt so long ago holding my fathers sheild.
When people say the movie 300 is a great movie, or a collection of senseless violence. Or whatever they say.
Its different for me.
It always will be.
And it always was.
He was in the Navy during the first part of my life, and continued to hold para-military carreers long after that. He also went to college in the down time, he was a history Major.
When I was 8, I got to stay with him for a longer time then usual. He was working for complany that protected factories when union workers went on strike. He was a Tac Team Commander, and he used the things he learned in history, about the greeks, and the spartans and how they used their sheilds. He taught his men how to work as a unit, using techniques severel hundred years old.
And when I was with him, he taught me. He taught me how when you are on the line, your left arm protects the man to your left, and your right strikes out for the man on your right. How each man is neither the weakest or the strongest link. The chain as a whole is not measured link by link, but together as one.
I listened as he spoke. And he would have me hold his big plexiglass sheild. I could barely lift that thing then...
He taught me about the Agoge, about The Commanche Warriors society, about all the ways soldiers had taught their young men how to become soldiers the world over.
He taught me how to use the terrain around you, he even cited the battle at Thermopoli. He told me how to use the elements, nature, weather, animals. Anything I had to overcome my opponents.
He told me about honor, discipline, justice. Brotherhood. I didnt really understand it. But I Remembered it all.
He showed me how he and his men would advance as one, and retreat as one. How each and everyone of them was important, and had to stay vigalant.
And I sat, legs mostly under that sheild, listening. Trying to memorize everything he said. Every block and move he demonstrated.
I imagined all my life what it would be like to be on that line. To train, and fight with other soldiers I knew and trusted. And to feel that rush I felt so long ago holding my fathers sheild.
When people say the movie 300 is a great movie, or a collection of senseless violence. Or whatever they say.
Its different for me.
It always will be.
And it always was.
posted by The Savage Bastard at 6:16 PM
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