For over two hundred years one tyrant after another has disparaged his fighting skills and underestimated his resolve. He is both hated and feared by those who would seek to enslave others. Kings and dictators tried unsuccessfully to destroy his resolve to see freedom survive. But he stands firm. Sometimes he was hard-pressed. Sometimes he fought alone. Sometimes he died defending the indefensible. But he is still unbeaten on the field of battle and more important in his own mind. He has at times been unappreciated by some of his countrymen who forget the price he paid but always he stands as a hero in the hearts of those who love liberty everywhere. Today those who would desire to lead this country stand ready to disparage any of his actions.

It really began in 1776. King George demanded the New World support his government. The freedom fighter stood firm to establish freedom. Places like Bunker Hill, Valley Forge and Lexington come to mind. He took on the best Red Coats George could field and the mercenaries called Hessians, the best soldiers of that day. And he prevailed. And with him, freedom prevailed.

In 1812 he took up arms again against an oppressing foe. On Lake Erie he built ships under the threat of British attack and with those ships, built by amateur shipbuilders using green wood and against all odds, he took on and defeated the mighty British fleet, built and crewed by the best professionals of the day. At New Orleans under Jackson he routed a superior British Army. Maybe the tyrants would keep their armies at home he hoped as he trudged back to his family.

In 1861 a home-grown tyranny called the Confederacy reared its ugly head and he was called again. This time battlefields were ringed with cannon and ships with iron sides dueled without a winner. The names remain with us today, Sumpter, Shiloh, Vicksburg, Hampton Roads, and Gettysburg. At Sumpter he stood under terrible cannon fire and surrendered only after there was nothing to gain from further bloodshed. At Hampton Roads he stood in the turret of the most modern battleship afloat and exchanged shot with a ship many times as large. Although the battle was a draw, his presence caused the rebel ship to be scuttled ending the threat. At Gettysburg he stood under the heaviest cannonade to that time and repulsed the forces of slavery, fifteen thousand strong. And he as he returned home he hoped against hope that the smell of gunpowder would henceforth be carried only on the winds of the sporting fields. But it was not to be.

To San Juan Hill he was called again. With the Rough Riders he stormed the ramparts and routed the enemy. And at Manila Bay he loaded the guns that destroyed the powerful Spanish Navy. As he sailed home he hoped that this would be the last time the armored hulls would leave port in anger. Maybe this would be the last infantry charge. Maybe the cannon would henceforth only be used for ceremonial volleys.

But in 1914 the Kaiser called his army together and soon there a new names on the plaques, Bella Wood and Flanders. And new weapons brought new peril, machine guns, poison gas, aircraft, tanks and submarines. And he was called to face them too. And as he came home he heard his leaders proclaim this as the war to end all wars. And how he hoped it was true.

You would think that with this legacy “(his) banners (would) make tyranny tremble”, his presence would cause despots to go into hiding. But despots are a strange lot. Each thinks he is invulnerable. Within two decades a Godless Japanese Emperor and the tyrant Adolf Hitler both called him soft. He would not fight, they said, and if he did, he would be no match for the super races of Imperial Japan and Nazi Germany. And so they tried his mettle. At Pearl, Bataan, Corregidor, Wake and Manila he gave way only to superior numbers and leadership. At Guadalcanal he stood against more than ten to one odds in Banzi Charges and held firm. At Coral Sea for the first time he fought a sea battle against an enemy unseen. At Midway he flew the TBF’s against Japanese carriers in spite of 100% losses. But it was not for nothing, the TBD’s followed used that sacrifice and broke the back of the Imperial Fleet. Many of the carriers that raped Pearl went to the bottom that day. At the Suagaro Strait he sailed six out gunned battleships, pulled from the Pearl Harbor mud defeated the best the godless Japanese Empire could offer. Like Perry at Erie, they crossed the T and won. In North Africa, Anzio, Normandy, in the skies above Europe, and in the Atlantic he stood tall against the best the Nazi Super race could offer. Monte Casino, Omaha, Utah and Bastogne stand as memorials, he can fight. And he hoped as he came home, maybe this is the last time. But this time he should have seen the signs of what was to come. For the first time he was restrained from fighting, the politicians set the Japanese Emperor’s Palace off limits. The palace of the un-godly figurehead who brought us to war was protected by our own leaders! And at the end of the war he remained in it and his son does to this day.

North Korea and Red China would not allow him to rest. And at Inchon and a hundred individually unimportant hills with names we don’t remember he threw back the best they could offer. He flew Corsairs, B-26’s and a host of other planes that had been used in the previous war to support the men on the ground. In the air he met the MIG’s nose to nose with F-86’s and won except when they retreated across the Yellow River to sanctuary. He was restrained from winning. The victory was snatched from his grasp by his own leaders.

The tyranny of Communism took solace from this and he was to have no rest because the Viet Cong would enslave its neighbors. And although he fought bravely his leaders prevented a victory. His fellow countrymen tired of the war and he came home seemingly without honor. But there were those who shook his hand when he returned. Unlike their leaders, Hanoi Jane and her fellow travelers, anoHanopthey knew the sacrifice he made and the importance of it.

So during the seventies and eighties he was called many times to “limited engagements” to protect freedom. And sometimes his life was sacrificed with seemingly little gain.

Then in 1990 he was called again. Sadaam Hussein called him the great Satan. He flew stealth planes so new that this was their first blooding and SR-71’s and A-10’s that were so old that they were pulled from mothballs to fly. He flew the undetectable stealth bombers over Bagdad and returned unharmed. He flew the ugly but beautiful A-10 tank busters that were called obsolete. And the ground forces were there too. And when turned loose in just few days these men in the air and on the ground nullified Sadaam’s army at places like Medina Ridge. Under his skillful control the untested M1A was turned into a fearsome weapon the Iraqi’s called “Whispering Death.” And but for a few, he and she came home for in this battle American women who had in the past played seemingly secondary roles were there too.

The next eight years were a time of disrespect from his commander yet his services were called for as much as in any period by a leader who knew nothing of him.

Then Saddam refused to give up and he (and she) were called again. In tanks, planes and on the ground they swept across Iraq so fast that supplying those men and their machines was difficult. That job fell to the men and women of the National Guard, driving trucks to keep the advance moving. The terrible Iraqi roads were complicated by Iraqi irregulars who considered the trucks fair game. But they and their brothers at the front prevailed. Saddam and his statue fell to them.

But tyranny seems to know no bounds. In Iraq and in America there were forces to prevent victory. In Iraq they were men who would die to prevent the people from becoming free. And in America there were those who either had no stomach for victory or considered political fodder more important than freedom. These have cost lives of Americans and Iraqis by giving aid and comfort to the enemy. These are the ones who our warriors will have to overcome – and we will have to help them.

You ask, who is this formidable warrior? He and she are from ten thousand places, some with names we all know like New York City and Baton Rouge, and some like Morton Illinois, Idaville Pennsylvania, Northeast Maryland, Bentleyville North Carolina, and Fair Grove Missouri. When they return home they blend in with the rest of us and we tend to forget their bravery. But when the chips were down and there was a need for someone to stand up and be counted, they are there.

Thank God, they were there.