Rudyard Kipling"
“When you're left wounded on Afganistan's plains and
the women come out to cut up what remains, Just roll to your rifle
and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldier”
General Douglas MacArthur"
“We are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.”
“It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.” “Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.
“The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
“May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .” “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
“Nobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
Raymond Ibrahim : Thanks to the efforts of Ferdinand III of Castile—aka Saint
Ferdinand, or Fernando—today in history, on June 29, 1236, Córdoba,
which after the eighth century Muslim conquest of Spain had become one
of the most important “abodes of Islam,” to quote a disgruntled Muslim
chronicler, “passed into the hands of the accursed Christians—may Allah
destroy them all!”
Six months earlier, in December of 1235, a daring band of Christians,
led by a few knights, stormed and took a portion of Córdoba’s eastern
quarter. Word reached King Ferdinand in January of 1236, even as he was
in mourning over the recent death of his thirty-year-old wife from
childbirth complications.
Through their envoy, the Spaniards “implored him to help them because
they were placed in most grave peril.” Against the Muslim “multitude of
Córdoba, they were very few” and “separated from the Moors only by a
certain wall running almost through the middle of the city.” Though at a
standstill, time, the envoy made clear, was not on the Christians’
side.
The king, who for years had been spearheading the Reconquista—the
Christian attempt to liberate Spain from Islam—was heavily moved by
such a heroic feat; and “the grief for the loss” of his wife “did not
long suspend his warlike preparations.” On the same evening that the
envoy arrived, Ferdinand’s advisors strongly warned him against setting
out immediately, during winter; they cited impassable roads due to snow,
rain and floods, and possible ambushes from the “innumerable multitude
of people in Córdoba”—to say nothing of Ibn Hud, the de facto king of
al-Andalus, who was even then headed to relieve the Muslim city.
But Ferdinand “placed his hope in the Lord Jesus Christ and closed
his ears” to all such talk. He was resolved to “aid his vassals who had
exposed themselves to such a great danger in his service and for the
honor of the Christian faith.” After sending word to his magnates in
Castile and León to muster their forces, he set off for Córdoba on the
very next morning—with only one hundred knights.