It occurred to me that prisoners and soldiers share a lot of the same experiences.
Neither of us know if we will make it back alive.
We know that our experiences will change us in profound ways.
If we’re posted at one place long enough, we’re bound to lose people who are fighting for the same cause- freedom!
We worry about our families and wonder if we did enough to let them know how much they’ve meant to us.
As men, we all carry a torch in our heart for some sweet girl back home that we try to use as inspiration to make it through our tour of duty.
At times, i’m sure we question the intentions of our superiors. We pretty much are told where to go and when to be there.
No doubt that the food sucks. How the hell can a man survive on food barely fit for human consumption?
We face more than the enemy that is visible. We struggle in our minds against the panic of anxiety over an uncertain future.
Its hard to consider whether people will great us with open arms or discontent when we come home.
We face the uncertainty of whether we will be able to adjust and pick up the pieces of our lives again.
It would seem that there are many similarities between the life of a soldier at war and the prisoner. The thing that distinguishes our experiences is the uniform. I wear khaki as a sign of my punishment. Soldiers wear there uniform as a sign of their loyalty to a nation. I often wish i could trade places and restore my honor. Why should someone lose their son when i sit here as a burden to society?
Adolphus E. Redding