I just came from a very enlightening lecture about Military History. I have to say that History has always been a fave subject and the way I see my Military History subject now I am looking forward to a very exciting time with the subject.
The thing that struck me the most in the lecture was how my instructor pointed out the importance of the study in bringing back a sense of direction, prestige and pride to my role as a soldier. I remember an entry I wrote before in this blog about being contented thinking of my self being old and still wearing my Army uniform. I also dread the times when all I can think of is the fear of being killed in the battlefield. There have always been countless times that I complain about being lonely, frustrated and just sad about why I am here in the first place. I can not count how many times I wondered why I am here to the point that some have been telling me to just leave. But I also remember the time when I read about epic stories of great men who were soldiers. I treasure the times when my dad tells me stories of his exploits in the battle field, how he captured some enemy camp and how proud he was to go home alive. I feel bad about stories of corrupt soldiers, about coup plotters and the so many bad things that I hear about people in my profession. And then my instructor spoke, with a big sense of conviction he said: remember the great stories of our soldiers and it will reinvigorate you and stand tall wearing your soldier's uniform. I guess I am really a soldier after all. I really do not care much if I feel lonely sometimes, hoping that things would have been different if I was some ordinary person in the civilian world. Even if I do hate waking up everyday early in the morning, keep my uniforms ironed and crisp, I go on with my day perfectly contented that I am doing what I am doing. I hate that I do not see the people that I miss that often, I hate being helpless at times because I am simply a subordinate, and yet in all this there is a sense of purpose in everything that I do and I am still perfectly happy thinking that I am gray and old still wearing my uniform.
Well, I know I forget the things that led me to be here. Sometimes I can just begin a sonata of complains on everything to the point that I feel bad with everything that is about me in this place. I lose focus do silly things, be stupid and just allow hell to break loose in my system. But in all this the soldier in me is just there, waiting to be remembered everytime I have this feelings. I know I may not become a great general or that I may become very afraid the moment I start hearing guns fired at my direction. I will hate the fact that I have to run carrying a heavy backpack and in the company of people who also feel the same way. I will miss the people I love, wonder about how life would have been if I didn't decide to embrace soldiery. But in the end, I realized that despite of all the thoughts that I keep on entertaining there is this fire that keeps on burning inside me that just keeps me alive and be happy despite of the many feelings that I feel. Inside me is that calling of being a soldier and loving it despite of everything. In the final analysis, I love being a soldier and can not imagine myself not being one.