By GEORGE CUSTER/Editor/The Herald — The lonely private is sitting in the middle of the night in his fighting hole, or “foxhole” as it’s so commonly referred to. Or he may be on a night patrol in a foreign jungle. The seaman apprentice, aware that enemy submarines lurk in the waters below him, ready to torpedo his ship at any time, waits at his station. The pilot and his aircrew, sent on a mission that they all know will pit them against a sea of cannon fire, fly on.
These warriors are not thinking about how much they’ll earn at the end of the day or the war. There’s no sense of entitlement. Most all have volunteered. They all signed a document and pledged their lives to their country. There was never a discussion about what their lives were monetarily worth. There isn’t a price you can put on service to your country.
I believe we’ve all heard it: “I’m not getting paid enough to do that”, or “you couldn’t pay me enough to do that job”. The private, the seaman, and the airman do their job without question. Most know they could perish in the blink on an eye. They hope they survive. There’s no union boss to complain to. Complain to your commanding officer and see what you get. The sense of responsibility and loyalty to your platoon, your shipmates, and your squadron keeps you strong enough to do what has to be done.
A scene from the movie Hamburger Hill depicts a squad of soldiers “dapping'” each other. “It don’t mean nothin‘, not a thing.” That momentary mantra helped keep what little sanity they had in check and, more importantly, for each other. They counted on each other for their very lives. They weren’t counting dollars. They weren’t seeking any prestige at the end of the day. Just lucky to be alive.
When I hear people put a price on the job they have, that they took on willfully, I wonder about things like loyalty, brotherhood or sisterhood, dedication to service, finishing that last 5% to your utmost ability. Those who serve and have served, and have lived to speak it, understand what it means to put oneself between themselves and adversity. I don’t need to salute you, but I do damn well appreciate you.
To my brothers and sisters who serve and have served: thank you all.
George Custer lives in Oakridge with his wife Sayre. George is a former smokejumper from his hometown of Cave Junction, a former captain in the U.S. Marine Corps. and ran a construction company in Southern California. George assumed the volunteer duties as the Editor of the Highway 58 Herald in 2022. He loves riding his Harley-Davidson motorcycle, building all things wood, and playing drums on the weekends in his office.
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