The Brash youth, the indoctrinated sheep, think of glory, medals, Heroics.
The warrior knows well, what war means.
The children, parents, wives, who have their hearts ripped out at the death of their soldier.
The screams, the moans, the fear of the blown apart and dying.
The stench of death.
The long sleepless nights when the slain march before then, with accusing eyes.
The warrior, trains, keeps himself fit, so if all else fails, he can go forth, to protect his Home land, his home, and his family.
But he hopes it does not come to war, the killing, the dying.
The Warrior thinks like a warrior, the sheep thinks like a sheep, even when trained to kill, and put in a uniform.
Warriors are born.
Soldiers are made.
A country needs it’s warriors, even if it is a peaceful country not prone to bother others, because not everyone in the world wants peace.
The problem is, the sheep want the warriors to act like sheep, until there is a war.
Then the sheep want the warriors to kill for them, come back home, and act like sheep again.
The sheep need to allow the warrior to be the warrior, and be damn glad the sheep have such protecting them.
Never seen the sheep defending the sheep herd from the jackals themselves yet.
Thats why sheep need non sheep beings to look out for them.
The sheep should in appreciation, do less pooping on the warriors feet and stop bleating in his ear.
John C Carleton