He was my brother and a combat-marine at the age of eighteen. They dropped those young boys off near the DMZ by helicopter. Immediately the North Vietnamese rockets came down. He was wounded but didn’t lose consciousness. The sensation of blood pulsating from his back was evident. Out of nowhere, a young African-American medic appeared and pulled him into a depression to shield from further injury. Medical helicopters approached under fire and he was thrown into one.
In that field that day, there were no hyphenated names, only marines trying to get home again. My brother didn’t know that hero but was forever grateful he was there. This marine turned seventy-four in May because of that medic.
How many unknown individuals do we owe our lives to?
Therefore, we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,
They went on before so that you could go on today.
Give it some thought.
Gary