A tribute to our valiant heroes

Lionel WIJESIRI

This is for all of you - men and women - who wear the military uniforms of this nation. You are our heroes. Whether you’re a manning a War Tank, piloting a military aircraft, stopping suspect boats on the high seas or cooking for two hundred in a Mess Hall, you are our heroes.

And all of you stood your ground! On the rough high seas when surrounded with enemy suicide boats, in the trenches, in the blood-soaked sands, in the lethally booby-trapped marshes and in the steamy jungles, you stood your ground. You said to them, “It’s enough! To get to our people you’ll have to go over us. And you’re not going over us. “And you succeeded. You did not allow them to go over you.

You’re our heroes! Whether firing a machine gun or turning the wrench on a jeep, keeping personnel records or guarding a gate, all of you are our heroes. You marched off to war with visions in your eyes; you sang patriotic songs as you faced the enemy. You met your duties with courage and strength, knowing full well that you must shed your blood for your ideals.

You have fought an extraordinary intense battle against the most ruthless terrorist outfit of the world and won. We will hail you as the ‘stuff of legend’. We need not look any further for our 21st Century role models than you, who are the ‘real heroes’.

Thank you very much! We will never forget you.

Post Script - With head bowed in shame I would like to extend apology to our valiant men and women in the battlefield for not sharing with you the agony they went through for months and years. I am sure there will be many more people who will be equally embarrassed after reading my few lines.

I stayed up for 4 hours and I am feeling horrible today.

He stayed up for 48 hours and fought his way to the end

I took two icy showers per day to help me keep out of exhaustion.

He went 3 days without a bucket of running water but never felt exhaustion.

I complained of a ‘headache’, and called my office to say ‘sick’.

He got shot at as others were hit, but kept moving forward.

I walked down the road, looking out for bargains at shopping malls.

He patrolled the lonely streets, searching for hiding terrorists.

I complained about how hot it was and how my collar got wet.

He wore his heavy gear in the sizzling heat, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.

I went out to lunch and complained because the steward served my order 15 minutes late.

He didn’t get to eat any solid whole day and didn’t want to complain to anybody

My maid washed my clothes and polished my shoes sparkling clean.

He wore the same clothes for weeks, but made sure his weapons were clean.

I rolled my eyes as the baby cried and rocked him softly till he went to sleep

He got a letter with pictures of his new child, and wondered if they’ll ever meet.

I criticized the government and said that war never solved anything.

He saw the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembered why he was fighting.

I crawled into my soft bed, with down pillows and got comfortable.

He tried to sleep on his backpack but got often woken by mortars and helicopters all night long.

A quote from the 1800s by philosopher John Stewart Mill certainly applies to our present situation. He said, “War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things.

The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.”

Those who have been serving in the battle field in North and East and in harm’s way on our behalf are some of the better people of whom Mills spoke.