Yesterday, about thirty people gathered around a grave site in a remote section of Quantico National Cemetery, south of Washington, D.C.  Each drank one can of Bud Light beer and then scattered back to their individual lives.  It was a wry, fond tribute to an unknown American hero, Gregory Wright.  I suspect he would have liked it that way.

A Marine, a Seal, and a CIA operative – he was cut from the same clothe as Chris Kyle, the not-unknown American hero in the movie Sniper.  Unfortunately, Gregory died alone, lying on the ground in Iraq, protecting his men.  He lived in obscurity and died in obscurity and undoubtedly preferred it that way.

As I looked around the acres of tombstones, perched silently on the gently rolling grounds, I noticed most of the graves held veterans of WWII, of Korea, and of Vietnam.  There were surprisingly few since 9-11.  As wars have become more technological, fewer and fewer Americans actually fight for their country.  While I can see that is a good thing, because fewer American mothers will get that dreaded knock on the door.  I also see it with some sadness.  Americans are increasingly insulated from the horrors of war — horrors that the rest of the world still feels.  Few families actually know the name of somebody who died in combat since 9-11, and even fewer are related to any of those fallen heroes.  Will that increasing insulation make us more warlike?  Listening to the current clamor for war makes me suspect it might be so.  Why not go to war . . . if you don’t have a kid-at-risk?

It is good for the soul to respect and appreciate men like Gregory Wright.  Real men like he and Chris Kyle make America safer for all those “dudes,” who have been taught to politely mouth “thank you for your service,” albeit with no idea what that really means.

I cannot look at a Bud Light again without smiling and thinking of Gregory.  I know he would smile as well!