Baying, bleating and barking

Despite the outpouring of emotion for the military since 9/11, there’s evidence the country is not completely comfortable with its men and women in uniform. They're different from the average American’s experience. They pay inordinate amounts of attention to little things like uniform parts, talk in acronyms no one else understands, have funny haircuts and say weird things like “hooah” and “ooh-rah.” They also make up a historically small percentage of the population, and the ranks of veterans thin each year with the passing of the World War II generation.

The two groups need each other, but common ground is hard to find. Thus, even during a time of war, college students protest a monument to a famous alumnus from WWII. To help this new generation understand the flawed but fiesty, very human Marine their school wanted to honor, a retired general sent the student body president a copy of a great parable. The thesis is excerpted below, but the entire piece is well worth the read. If our republic is to continue, the sheep and the sheepdogs have got to work together to keep the wolves at bay:

If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero's path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa."

Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.