We All Got That S.O.B.
by Richard X [a DoD contractor via Seamus]
this is for Nick Berg
It was more than just one pilot or just one bomb that caused the
recent death of terrorist leader Abu Musab Zarqawi in Iraq. We
all got that son-of-a-bitch.
Some grandmother somewhere in America works in a factory
soldering wires to a harness that will connect to a little square
box containing a little projection camera for an F-16 Heads Up
Display.
A young man or woman, a year removed from high school, pulled
pins from 500-pound bombs on a hot desert tarmac.
Another kid in America works in a foundry pouring hot aluminum
alloys which will eventually find its way to the compressor stage
of the F-100 engine that will power an F-16 from a runway.
Someone in America sang in a church choir on Sunday, and on
Monday was holding a rivet gun, helping to build another
warplane, which will help keep us free.
Some young American, who will never be interviewed on TV, decided
to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, and
volunteered to undergo the military's most rugged training.
Some small group of brave faceless men, lurking in the darkness,
shined a little laser beam against a building.
Some geeky American, known for her math skills, wrote a little
program that turns numbers into coordinates.
Some young American decided to become a pilot after watching the
Thunderbirds or Blue Angels put on a show at a
county fair.
Some inventive American, that you or I will never meet, had an
idea, which became GPS.
Some kid, who last year was dancing at a prom, pulled the chocks.
Some other kid, who was cleaning windshields last year at the
local car wash back home in his summer job, wiped the canopy of
this multi-million dollar jet.
Someone working in a rubber factory had no idea that her work
product was tucking itself into its bay as the pilot brought up
the gear 20-feet off the deck.
Some little American girl, who years ago was all about MTV and
CDs, gave a closing vector, cleared hot.
Some pilots did their job.
SHACK, baby.
AMERICA got that son-of-a-bitch.
Every damn one of us.
And that's the difference between us, and why they hate us. We
work together to take out a single evil enemy; but they attack
everybody, innocent or not.
All I can say is, that before he died, I hope it hurt like hell.
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