Friday, January 30, 2009

Julian Brennan - An Ethical Warrior

In many ways, he was your typical twenty-something Park Slope resident, hanging out at the local bars and aspiring to be a successful actor. But Marine Lance Cpl. Julian T. Brennan, 25, also felt a calling larger than himself. He made the ultimate sacrifice Jan. 24, when a roadside bomb took his life while supporting combat operations in Farah province, Afghanistan.

Billy said his son was really happy with his choice of joining the Marines, and that modern communication systems enabled him to talk to his son fairly regularly from Afghanistan.

“He voted for Obama and talked to my wife on Inauguration Day. He talked with compassion about the folks in Afghanistan. He could understand the resentment that locals had about any outside forces in their country. He was a happy, ethical warrior,” said his father.

From: Brooklyn Marine dies - Julian T. Brennan was 25

By: Stephen Witt


The Final Inspection

The Marine stood and faced his God

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining

Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, oh, Devil-Dog,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To My Church have you been true?"

The Jarhead squared his shoulders... said,

"No, Lord, I guess I ain't,

'cause those of us who carry guns

Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays

And at times my talk was tough,

And sometimes I've been violent,

'cause the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime

When the bills just got too steep,

And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear,

And sometimes, God forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place

Among the people here,

They never wanted me around

Except to calm their fear.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand,

I never expected or had too much,

So if you don't, I'll understand."

A silence fell all 'round the throne

Where Saints had often trod,

As the Marine awaited quietly,

The judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, My Fine Marine,

You've borne your burdens well,

Walk your post on Heaven's streets,

You've served your time in Hell."

Saepius Exertas, Semper Fidelis, Frater Infinitas

Sleep in Peace, Brother.


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