my body. It was not just a flash of news on CNN or an article on the front page. It was real, and it belonged to us all. It was a life and a death. A friend and a family member, someone dearly loved. It was the man by my side, and so many others, with a long life ahead, marching off to a place he might not come back from. I never felt his fear, only a casual calmness that whatever happened he would be okay. With that, he taught me when facing the unOnce, I was allowed to serve my country in the comfort of my own home. I stood at attention, saluted the flag, and serviced the servicemen of this great nation. Or shall I say serviceman. Mine was a patriotic act deeply personal, that of which many women have undertaken and find great pleasure in. I loved a military man. And just any military man, a United States Marine.

Marines are a different breed of men. They reason with complete removal of emotion yet speak with sentiment about the destruction of world’s they’ve encountered. Contemplative but careless, wildly egocentric, brash, belligerent; they are a mesh of contradictions. They are tender but tough, forceful but reserved, charismatically gruff. Sometimes they hate what they do, but they always believe in it. They’ve orphaned so much life has to offer: family, safety, permanence- but they do not care. They live like they speak: brusquely, candidly, without apology and with a certainty that this is the life for them.

Together Marines can be a thing to behold: drinking and swearing, singing and slapping each other on the back, saying things like, “remember that time at Okinawa.” But in the eyes of any military man you see how they live, their rash life that can be picked up and packed away at a moment’s notice, their disconnection with people and place, their sheer will that often supersedes bravery. Knowing them you are conscious of a whole new way of life, one that involves the elaborate mechanics of killing, strategic violence, and strict uniformity. Military men bring what it means to be an American, the beauty and the burden, and set it before you.

You see for the first time the corporeality of war; it’s actual materiality. The war lay next to me at night, it breathed and dreamed, pulled me close and touched my body. It was not just a flash of news on CNN or an article on the front page. It was real, and it belonged to us all. It was a life and a death. A friend and a family member, someone dearly loved. It was the man by my side, and so many others, with a long life ahead, marching off to a place he might not come back from. I never felt his fear, only a casual calmness that whatever happened he would be okay. With that, he taught me when facing the unk

emotion yet speak with sentiment about the destruction of world’s they’ve encountered. Contemplative but careless, wildly egocentric, brash, belligerent; they are a mesh of contradictions. They are tender but tough, forceful but reserved, charismatically gruff. Sometimes they hate what they do, but they always believe in it. They’ve orphaned so much life has to offer: family, safety, permanence- but they do not care. They live like they speak: brusquely, candidly, without apology and with a certainty that this is the life for them.

Together Marines can be a thing to behold: drinking and swearing, singing and slapping each other on the back, saying things like, “remember that time at Okinawa.” But in the eyes of any military man you see how they live, their rash life that can be picked up and packed away at a moment’s notice, their disconnection with people and place, their sheer will that often supersedes bravery. Knowing them you are conscious of a whole new way of life, one that involves the elaborate mechanics of killing, strategic violence, and strict uniformity. Military men bring what it means to be an American, the beauty and the burden, and set it before you.

You see for the first time the corporeality of war; it’s actual materiality. The war lay next to me at night, it breathed and dreamed, pulled me close and touched my body. It was not just a flash of news on CNN or an article on the front page. It was real, and it belonged to us all. It was a life and a death. A friend and a family member, someone dearly loved. It was the man by my side, and so many others, with a long life ahead, marching off to a place he might not come back from. I never felt his fear, only a casual calmness that whatever happened he would be okay. With that, he taught me when facing the un

squely, candidly, without apology and with a certainty that this is the life for them.

Together Marines can be a thing to behold: drinking and swearing, singing and slapping each other on the back, saying things like, “remember that time at Okinawa.” But in the eyes of any military man you see how they live, their rash life that can be picked up and packed away at a moment’s notice, their disconnection with people and place, their sheer will that often supersedes bravery. Knowing them you are conscious of a whole new way of life, one that involves the elaborate mechanics of killing, strategic violence, and strict uniformity. Military men bring what it means to be an American, the beauty and the burden, and set it before you.

You see for the first time the corporeality of war; it’s actual materiality. The war lay next to me at night, it breathed and dreamed, pulled me close and touched my body. It was not just a flash of news on CNN or an article on the front page. It was real, and it belonged to us all. It was a life and a death. A friend and a family member, someone dearly loved. It was the man by my side, and so many others, with a long life ahead, marching off to a place he might not come back from. I never felt his fear, only a casual calmness that whatever happened he would be okay. With that, he taught me when facing the un

t often supersedes bravery. Knowing them you are conscious of a whole new way of life, one that involves the elaborate mechanics of killing, strategic violence, and strict uniformity. Military men bring what it means to be an American, the beauty and the burden, and set it before you.

You see for the first time the corporeality of war; it’s actual materiality. The war lay next to me at night, it breathed and dreamed, pulled me close and touched my body. It was not just a flash of news on CNN or an article on the front page. It was real, and it belonged to us all. It was a life and a death. A friend and a family member, someone dearly loved. It was the man by my side, and so many others, with a long life ahead, marching off to a place he might not come back from. I never felt his fear, only a casual calmness that whatever happened he would be okay. With that, he taught me when facing the un

my body. It was not just a flash of news on CNN or an article on the front page. It was real, and it belonged to us all. It was a life and a death. A friend and a family member, someone dearly loved. It was the man by my side, and so many others, with a long life ahead, marching off to a place he might not come back from. I never felt his fear, only a casual calmness that whatever happened he would be okay. With that, he taught me when facing the unknown you must meet it boldly and that in chaos poise was certainly possible.

Military men live life hard-nosed and with intensity, but they value the simple: a warm meal, the correspondence of a friend, a photo of the family. They are passionate, sturdy men. Every woman must be with one at least once in her life. Besides bestowing a fierce patriotism, there is something strangely empowering in loving a man who serves our country and wildly erotic in waking up with a man who wears camouflage and combat boots to work. Meticulous, vulgar, built, and brave, (and not to disappoint in the bedroom) a military man is everything you would expect him to be, and sometimes even a little sweet and endearing.

So women, if you haven’t already had you’re run with a military man I hope that someday you do; it is a unique experience. Be it the Marines, Army, Navy, or Air force, the armed forces of this nation have a lot to teach us. And strangely enough it is not always because of the job they do but because of the way they live. My Marine taught me to be brave, not because he was a Marine but because he lived what he believed, and that is a hard thing to do, perhaps the hardest.

The members of the United States military are proud men and they make you proud to be with them, contributing to a life that is sewn together with orders, ranks, and letters written among sand and sea. You can’t help but to believe in them. They leave you with dog tags and broken hearts but you don’t care. You wake up smiling, thinking about the countries they’ve been in, wondering where they will go next, and who will be there to listen to their stories and nibble on their ear in the dark and get all teary eyed thinking of the things they’ve done and the things they’ll do- for me and for you and for everyone w