Enough God, guns and war
Recently I was asked when I grew up. I’ve been thinking about that and I’ll answer this way.
At the age of six, first grade in Ulen, I remember another little boy being bullied. He spoke Norwegian or Swedish and was being ridiculed and taunted by a high schooler. Looking back, I realize the beginning of a conscience and a very strong dislike for bullies. After all these years, I am very proud of that realization.
On April 2, I was sitting with my 95 year old father, listening to Newt Gingrich. Old stale Newt was being his usually bidated, pompous, boring self, expressing his faux disdain for the pentagon’s refusal to issue purple hearts to the mass shooting victims at Ft. Hood, Texas. Newt claimed they were victims of the “war on terror” and deserved these medals.
I called Newt an A..H..E.! I’ve not heard a thing from him since, but a couple of people at the center heard me, and that’s fine. I stand by what I said.
You see the reason Newt shut up so quickly was the “War on Terror” also happened in Tucson, Aurora, Colorado, Milwaukee, and Newtown, Conn.
If purple hearts were issued to Ft. Hood – then send six silver stars and 26 purple hearts, posthumously, to Sandy Hook, Newtown, Conn. and Legion of Merits to the first responders.
On Aug. 29, 1968, one of my men took a direct hit from a B-40 rocket propelled grenade. It wasn’t pretty – kind of like a field-dressed deer with all the trimmings just laying there, with glasses.
Now, imagine those first responders entering Sandyhook Elementary School confronted with that carnage!
The first little boy buried was 6 years old. He was shot at least seven times, maybe 11. His mother insisted on an open coffin. She wanted the world to see what a 6-year-old boy looked like with half of his head blown off, from the eyes down; many other children had limbs blown off.
Look at your children or grand children and imagine what six or more shots from a .223 looks like. Yep, a pretty good huntin’ rifle – bring ‘em down and keep ‘em down – kind of like fawn deer being hit by an 18-wheeler or for efficiency a big old food processer.
I grew up a long, long time ago. I, also, refused to carry a weapon while stationed in West Berlin. I “stood my ground”
I had had enough! God, guns and war – enough! A weapon in my hand and what is below my belt didn’t make me a man – good heart, clear thinking, conscience and compassion did.
This was God’s intent that I am here and have been writing for the past several years. Those children at Sandy Hook were God’s children, yours and mine.
If you have a problem with this; take it up with God. — Leland Jenson, Detroit Lakes