My Son, the Warrior

Legend says that when faced with Santa Anna's demand to surrender his command at the Alamo in late February of 1836, Lt. Col. William B. Travis' reply was a singular blast from his 18 pound cannon - heavier, louder and more powerful than anything the dictator drug along from Mexico. The massive blast was more symbolic than anything, the Texian garrison's blustering echo of the "Come and Take It" from Gonzales the fall previous, daring Santa Anna to do just that. 

Last night, the President of the United States and the British Prime Minister jointly fired off the modern equivalent of Travis' 18 pound cannon, ordering US and British planes and ships to strike multiple targets in Yemen. History will determine whether it was merely a symbolic blast or if it will, in fact, deter further terrorist attacks on international shipping and American and British warships acting as security. 

This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that Americans are forced to brush up on world geography because of our military response. In decades past, we've wondered where exactly is Vietnam, Beiruit, Honduras, and Afghanistan? We know, like American soldiers and Marines heading to Europe in 1917, it's somewhere "over there," but not exactly where "there" is. 

This time, though, I have a more vested interest in knowing just where the rockets, missiles, and drones are tearing apart the friendly skies. Our son is now a sailor in the United States Navy, one of over 300,000 men and women tasked with protecting our shores, our national interests abroad, and our international friends who rely on us. We are watching, waiting, praying, and listening carefully about what's going on over there.

We are not the first family to watch the news more closely than before our sons and daughters, husbands and wives, moms and dads enlisted, swore to defend and protect the nation. We will not be the last, either, watching, listening, praying and waiting for a word from them. This is to say I am not unique in any way, shape or form. But for my family, this is the first time in 60 years where a family member is wearing the uniform. And, like thousands of other service member families, last night I found Yemen on a map, easier than ever before thanks to Google. 

In other words, it is entirely possible our son may be sailing into harm's way sooner than later. He has friends, buddies, from boot camp and tech school who might already be there, or on the way. (Let the reader understand: like Sergeant Schultz, I know nothing and am not implying, revealing, or hinting at anything. A few days ago, I asked Junior a too-pointed question. After only a moment hesitation, he firmly answered, "I cannot answer that, Dad," and an unspoken, "...and don't ask again," hung in the conversation. Mea culpa... )

It was one thing a year ago when he decided to join the Navy. After all, "It's not just a job...it's an adventure," the old ad said. "It'll be good for him," we said (probably to soothe ourselves), "foro him to gain some experience, see the world, learn something while getting paid." Sure, in the back of our minds was the knowledge that he was becoming a very small, low-ranking cog in the maritime machine whose job was to be the naval equivalent of the Light Brigade, neither asking nor wondering, but the relative calm in the world lulled us into a false ease behind our pride. 

We're still proud - prouder than proud, in fact - of his choice and his determination to enlist and serve, but the shine is now off the apple. The last few months, particularly since the mess has blown up in Israel, that ease has become more uneasy. War drums are thumping louder and louder. The 18 pounder has been fired in responsive warning. Technically, legally it's not yet a war. However, British defense official General Sir Nick Carter, yesterday, actually used the words "a risk of World War 3" in describing what was happening in Yemen, and that was before the planes and ships started firing. 

That sounds you just heard was the "gulp" in my throat. 

So, following in the footsteps of my mother-in-law when her husband went to Vietnam, my mom's family when two brothers went to that same jungle wasteland, my aunts and uncles when cousins deployed to various danger zones in places that twenty years ago they, too, had to look up, we watch, wait, listen and pray for our son, the warrior, and every other sailor, airman, soldier and Marine. 

God bless them, watch over them, and preserve them from harm and danger. Give them resolve in the face of danger, courage in doing their duty, compassion for peers who are afraid, and assure them of Your abiding presence, even in the places of danger. Comfort and encourage those at home who wait. Make homecomings swift and joyful and bring warfare to a swift end. Lord, have mercy. Amen.