It's a brotherhood we just don't understand

Last week, The Big Dubya and I along with Aunt P and her husband went out for a lovely dinner to celebrate Aunt P's birthday.

While we were sitting at the bar enjoying some cocktails and terrific Irish music, the Big Dubya whispered something to me that I've heard him say many, many times before.

"There's a soldier".

I don't know why I still ask... he's always right, but as usual I asked him how he could tell from all the way across the room.

This time it was a rucksack parked discreetly at his feet, other times it's been a haircut, a key chain, a tee-shirt, a patch on a jacket or an overheard word or phrase...... things I would have never noticed, but a former soldier would never miss.

And, as has happened many times before -- the Big Dubya hopped off his stool and said, "I'm going to go buy him a beer" and he went over, introduced himself, thanked him for his service and bought him a beer. Sometimes these exchanges last just a few minutes -- this particular one was probably close to a half hour -- and they almost always end in a handshake this time it was a hug.

The soldier we met last Monday night will soon be heading back to Iraq for his third tour -- and, although sad to be leaving home, he is proud to be going -- he believes in the work he's doing there.

No, this post is not about the war in Iraq or anywhere else for that matter -- so, please refrain from commenting on that today, the anniversary of D-Day.

I am rarely prouder of my husband than when he goes on one of these "beer-buying-missions." Not because he goes off to buy some random guy a beer, because it is so much more than just that. It is his effort to make some small gesture toward a young man who is sacrificing for our nation, our family's safety and well being. It is because he stops and takes time out of our evening to get to know a little bit about a guy who surrenders time with his own family to defend the safety of strangers.

This post is about how the Army takes boys and turns them into men -- and in the case of this soldier and my husband it's about how the Army takes boys and turns them into gentlemen and brothers.

Aunt P noticed the Big Dubya was missing and asked me where he'd gone -- so, I told her and she said "Oh okay, does he do that often?" to which I responded "Yeah he does, it's a brotherhood we just don't understand"

May God Bless all of our military men & women.