I don't know how much I can say on this. I have not had the honor of living in our country since 2002.

I do know that we are at war. I have the medals and patch on my right shoulder, everyday, to prove it.

Not to mention the memories.

I remember:

jetliners slamming into the twin towers of the World's Trade Center;

smoldering holes in the ground where two of the tallest buildings in the world stood;

the final toll of almost 3,000 dead in New York;

the smoldering hole in the side of Pentagon where 193 uniformed and civilian employees of the Department of Defense died;

plus the passengers of that plane;

the story of those who heard about the previous three planes, and refused to be used in the same way. They said "Let's Roll!" ...and made it happen;

PFC Markus J. Johnson of Delta (Dawgs) Battery, 4th Battalion, 3rd Air Defense Artillery Regiment;

if you have been following this blog, the Tailor, his assistant, and his wife;

that since the inception of the Congressional Medal of Honor, only two military musicians have won it: one, a bugler from the Army during the Boxer Rebellion, whose name I don't remember; the other was a Marine bugler/trumpet player during WWII named Cole. The Navy named a destroyer after him. al Quaeda blew a large chunk of the side out of that ship, killing 17 sailors(mostly enlisted personnel, like me), in the process.

So, how much, of what you can remember, do you never want to experience again?

You have seen part of my list.