The following letter is from a Marine in Viet Nam to his parents. A remembrance to all who have answered their nation's call THEY'RE REAL CHAMPIONS "...Just imagine, most of the guys over here are 18 and fighting to make it to 19. The average age of the combat soldier in many units here is 18 1/2. And what a man he is. A pink cheeked, tousled haired, tight muscled fellow who, under normal circumstances, would be considered by society as half man, half boy, not yet dry behind the ears and a pain in the unemployment chart. "But here and now he is the beardless hope of free men. He is, for the most part, unmarried and without material possessions except possibly for an old car at home and a transistor radio here. He listens to rock n roll and 105 millimeter howitzers. "He just got out of high school, received so so grades, played a little football and had a girl who promised to be true. "He has learned to drink beer because it is cold and 'is the thing to do'. He is a private first class, a one year military veteran with one or possible three years to go. "He has never cared for work, preferred waxing his own car to washing his father's but he is now working or fighting from dawn to dark, and often longer. "He still has trouble spelling and writing letters home is a painful process. But he can break down his rifle in 30 seconds and put it back together in 29. He can describe the nomenclature of a fragmentation grenade, explain how a machine gun operates and use either if the need arises. "He can dig a foxhole, apply first aid to a wounded companion, march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march. He has seen more suffering than he should in his short life. He has stood among hills of bodies, and he has helped to build those hills. He has wept in private and in public and has not been ashamed at doing either, because his pals have fallen in battle and he has come close to joining them. "He has become self sufficient. He has two pair of fatigues, washes one and wears the other. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but not his rifle. He keeps his socks dry and his canteen full. "He can cook his own meals, fix his own hurts and mend his own rips - material or mental. He will share his water with you if you thirst, break his rations in half if you hunger and split his ammunition if you are fighting for your life. "He can do the work of two civilians, draw half the pay of one and find ironic humor in it all. He has learned to use his hands as a weapon and his weapon as his hands. He can save a life or most assuredly take one. "He is now 19, a veteran and fighting to make 20 ..." Author Unknown I saw a copy of this letter in April 1968 and it has stuck with me ever since. Lets hope mankind has learn a lesson and keeps the peace. From a 50 year old Canadian who remembers. There may be no connection here at all but one never knows till he tries. Dan Dobson British Columbia, Canada ddobson@direct.ca