CaveCreekRay
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In celebration of Veteran's Day, we would like to share the remarks of Special Agent Mike Weston from a speech delivered on November 11, 2007.
"My name is Mike Weston. I am both a Special Agent in the DEA, and a Major in the United States Marine Corps.
I have deployed to Iraq three times, once on active duty prior to joining DEA, and twice as a reservist after having become an agent. This past Saturday, I celebrated the 232nd Marine Corps birthday in Roanoke, Virginia, with the Marines of Bravo Company, 4th Combat Engineer Battalion. I had been their company commander, and had deployed with them to Iraq in 2005. However, I had missed the past two Marine Corps Balls because of my deployments, and had not yet celebrated one with them.
In the military, we wear our stories on our chests, although I have come to realize that the most important chapters are rarely included there. Many of these young men I had not seen in over a year or more, and I had not seen most in their dress blues since before we deployed, when they had a shooting badge on their uniform, and not much else. Now they look like Russian generals, with rows of ribbons and medals chronicling their service.
Medals are not a big deal unless you don't have any, and before we deployed they had been very concerned about which medals they might receive in Iraq. This past Saturday, I was talking to Lance Corporal Ed Cook, who now wears a Purple Heart with a gold star, meaning he has been seriously wounded twice, and he reminded me of something I told the company before we left. "The only two that matter are the Purple Heart and the POW Medal," he quoted back to me, "and you don't want either of them."
Ed had been very anxious for combat when we first arrived in Iraq, and was very frustrated every time we would go on patrol and no one would attack us. Until one day, when we stood over the body of a 6-year-old girl who had been shot and burned to death, and Ed helped me place her remains into a plastic bag. We handled her as gently as we could, trying not to break what was left of her. There was a battle going on in the nearby town, and a few seconds of silence was the only memorial we could offer her before going back to work.
After that, Ed was quieter, and laughed less. He was just as effective in combat, just as brave, but approached each mission with calm determination rather than youthful enthusiasm. He fought beside his comrades and never waivered, he saw a few killed and many wounded. He saw civilians caught in the middle, their homes and lives ruined. And he had the courage, despite those experiences, or maybe because of them, to volunteer to go back to Iraq again, as many have. And again he did his duty, took his wounds, and came home.
He now knows what combat veterans know, that Napolean was wrong he said a man would do anything for a medal. A medal will not replace your leg, or raise your child when you are gone. Men go to war for many reasons, for their countries, for a challenge, for pride, for glory, even out of curiosity, to find out things about themselves and other human beings that one can discover no other way. But what makes it possible for men to wage war once they find it, to deal with the horror and the terror, is love of their comrades.
The burden of this war is spread unevenly on a few. The young men we send to war are not the same men who come back. Those few have earned their citizenship in blood, and carry the pride that comes from knowing that they answered our country’s call. And yet, as it has been for warriors since war began, coming home is bittersweet. Thoughts of comrades lost, of wounds not yet healed, weigh heavily as we rediscover and reconnect with the lives we left behind.
We fight our nations’ enemies thousands of miles from home. Because of this sacrifice, our families and friends are safe, and the horrors all too common to the rest of the world are unknown to them. There is comfort in the thought that, although most Americans will never know what we now know, nor see what we have seen, the fact that they have not is evidence of our success. The citizens of this nation sleep peacefully in their beds at night because good men stand ready to defend them from those who would do them harm. These young men have seen more suffering, and carry more sorrow, than young men should. And for many, the nation will call again. And they will respond the way our forefathers did. They will say goodbye to their loved ones, pick up their rifles, and face again, with courage and resolve, the evil that threatens this nation. As long as young men such as these answer their nations’ call, this republic will be safe. This is the life that we chose. There is no higher calling.
Lance Corporal Cook is a veteran now, and Veteran's Day is now his day. Semper Fidelis."
Mike Weston was a graduate of Stanford University and Harvard Law School. He could have done anything. He chose to serve his country.
DEA Special Agent Mike Weston, Special Agent Chad Michael and Special Agent Forrest Leamon along with seven US Special Forces personnel were killed in a counter narcotics mission in Afghanistan on October 26, 2009.
They are "Never to be Forgotten"....
"There are stars whose radiance is visible on Earth though they have long been extinct. There are people whose brilliance continues to light the world even though they are no longer among the living. These lights are particularly bright when the night is dark. They light the way for humankind."
-- Hannah Szenes,
Hungarian soldier
"My name is Mike Weston. I am both a Special Agent in the DEA, and a Major in the United States Marine Corps.
I have deployed to Iraq three times, once on active duty prior to joining DEA, and twice as a reservist after having become an agent. This past Saturday, I celebrated the 232nd Marine Corps birthday in Roanoke, Virginia, with the Marines of Bravo Company, 4th Combat Engineer Battalion. I had been their company commander, and had deployed with them to Iraq in 2005. However, I had missed the past two Marine Corps Balls because of my deployments, and had not yet celebrated one with them.
In the military, we wear our stories on our chests, although I have come to realize that the most important chapters are rarely included there. Many of these young men I had not seen in over a year or more, and I had not seen most in their dress blues since before we deployed, when they had a shooting badge on their uniform, and not much else. Now they look like Russian generals, with rows of ribbons and medals chronicling their service.
Medals are not a big deal unless you don't have any, and before we deployed they had been very concerned about which medals they might receive in Iraq. This past Saturday, I was talking to Lance Corporal Ed Cook, who now wears a Purple Heart with a gold star, meaning he has been seriously wounded twice, and he reminded me of something I told the company before we left. "The only two that matter are the Purple Heart and the POW Medal," he quoted back to me, "and you don't want either of them."
Ed had been very anxious for combat when we first arrived in Iraq, and was very frustrated every time we would go on patrol and no one would attack us. Until one day, when we stood over the body of a 6-year-old girl who had been shot and burned to death, and Ed helped me place her remains into a plastic bag. We handled her as gently as we could, trying not to break what was left of her. There was a battle going on in the nearby town, and a few seconds of silence was the only memorial we could offer her before going back to work.
After that, Ed was quieter, and laughed less. He was just as effective in combat, just as brave, but approached each mission with calm determination rather than youthful enthusiasm. He fought beside his comrades and never waivered, he saw a few killed and many wounded. He saw civilians caught in the middle, their homes and lives ruined. And he had the courage, despite those experiences, or maybe because of them, to volunteer to go back to Iraq again, as many have. And again he did his duty, took his wounds, and came home.
He now knows what combat veterans know, that Napolean was wrong he said a man would do anything for a medal. A medal will not replace your leg, or raise your child when you are gone. Men go to war for many reasons, for their countries, for a challenge, for pride, for glory, even out of curiosity, to find out things about themselves and other human beings that one can discover no other way. But what makes it possible for men to wage war once they find it, to deal with the horror and the terror, is love of their comrades.
The burden of this war is spread unevenly on a few. The young men we send to war are not the same men who come back. Those few have earned their citizenship in blood, and carry the pride that comes from knowing that they answered our country’s call. And yet, as it has been for warriors since war began, coming home is bittersweet. Thoughts of comrades lost, of wounds not yet healed, weigh heavily as we rediscover and reconnect with the lives we left behind.
We fight our nations’ enemies thousands of miles from home. Because of this sacrifice, our families and friends are safe, and the horrors all too common to the rest of the world are unknown to them. There is comfort in the thought that, although most Americans will never know what we now know, nor see what we have seen, the fact that they have not is evidence of our success. The citizens of this nation sleep peacefully in their beds at night because good men stand ready to defend them from those who would do them harm. These young men have seen more suffering, and carry more sorrow, than young men should. And for many, the nation will call again. And they will respond the way our forefathers did. They will say goodbye to their loved ones, pick up their rifles, and face again, with courage and resolve, the evil that threatens this nation. As long as young men such as these answer their nations’ call, this republic will be safe. This is the life that we chose. There is no higher calling.
Lance Corporal Cook is a veteran now, and Veteran's Day is now his day. Semper Fidelis."
Mike Weston was a graduate of Stanford University and Harvard Law School. He could have done anything. He chose to serve his country.
DEA Special Agent Mike Weston, Special Agent Chad Michael and Special Agent Forrest Leamon along with seven US Special Forces personnel were killed in a counter narcotics mission in Afghanistan on October 26, 2009.
They are "Never to be Forgotten"....
"There are stars whose radiance is visible on Earth though they have long been extinct. There are people whose brilliance continues to light the world even though they are no longer among the living. These lights are particularly bright when the night is dark. They light the way for humankind."
-- Hannah Szenes,
Hungarian soldier
