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My heroes don’t wear capes or spin webs. They have both a single origin story and a million individual ones. There is no mega-media company to pay billions of dollars to claim their name because it is not for sale. They do not believe in prequels or sequels or having a separate “universe” apart from the real world.
They answer to names like “Jar Head,” “Leatherneck” and “Devil Dog.” The only colors they see are Mother Green, Desert Tan, Dress Blue and Scarlet and Gold.
They bear the unbearable. They live for me, die for me and call me “Sir” when I do not deserve such respect. And they do that for every American, even though the number of those in uniform today would barely fill the city of Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
This Sunday, November 10, is the 244th birthday of the United States Marine Corps. To my son, and all of his brothers and sisters active, retired and in reserve, “Oorah!” and thank you.Published in