From Concord and Bunker Hill to Gettysburg and Omaha Beach, to a killing field in a movie theater in Aurora Colorado this nation has never been short on men willing to sacrifice their own lives to protect those they love. And that, is a shortage we will never face. When times are at their very worst for this nation there will always be men who are at their very best, and so it was in Aurora, and so it will be anytime that people of courage must face a choice between their own safety and the survival of those they love, and often that love extends to total strangers.
Three such men made a willful choice and their courage was no less than those who died in the sands of Iwo Jima or the frigid waters of the North Atlantic. They did what Americans do best. They answered the call of duty.
The greatest tragedy is not the death of these men, for death comes to us all and they faced theirs undaunted, but the fact they died unarmed, unable to stand and engage an assassin in a vicious one sided combat. Gone are the days when a man could go anywhere and none would challenge his right to defend himself and his loved ones. It is one thing to stand and face an enemy, exchange fire with fire, and fall in battle. It is still another to have no option but to turn your own body into a shield as death fills the air, knowing that in doing so you will die, and with your final breath praying that the one whose body you are shielding with your own will live another day.
So many see an incident such as Aurora as an isolated event and a specific tragedy. I do not. I look deeper, I peer past the trees and into the forest and see this as but a symptom of a society gone awry. Mankind, with an instinct to survive, is by its very nature an aggressive species, and no law, no misguided good intentions, and no executive order will ever change this fact.
The worst thing to ever befall this nation is the vast number of cowards who walk among us. Perhaps I should be politically correct and refer to them, not as cowards, but by the term used routinely by many others. They are the liberals. They rise every morning with a dread fear of life and its realities. They fear the food we eat, the water we drink, and even the very air we breathe. They are the ones who shun military service and despise the weapons that secure peace. They are the ones who seek public office so that they may force their Utopian visions on those who know that Utopia is but a pipe dream. They are the ones who criticize the patriots of the Tea Party, and embrace their fellow cowards in Occupy. It is they who have given us Aurora and taken the lives of the innocent and the courageous.
Only the invertebrates among us deny that we are on the verge of a chaos such as this nation has never known. We face a civil war of inconceivable carnage that is being promoted by the Marxists, the communists, and the Progressives. Oddly enough they are largely financed by the liberal elements of America who see patriots as the great nemesis of peace. They are delusional, always suggesting yet another compromise with evil, and they are such fools that they are not even aware that they serve that evil, as they castigate all that is heroic.
My train of thought may seem odd to some but I saw a direct connection in the deaths of these three brave men and some comments left on a few of my essays. The authors of those comments suggest doubts that we can prevail in the conflagration that will soon engulf America. They look upon our enemies, the biggest being those who hold the reins of power within the Federal Government. They count the many groups who oppose our freedoms, the unions, the communists and Marxists, Islam, militant blacks and Hispanics.
That surely does sound like a lot of people, and it is, but they are much different than we. One of the biggest difference is that they all want something for nothing, and they follow Obama believing that he will continue to take from us and give to them. Things will abruptly change when Americans lock and load and let it be known that they will no longer be the givers, that they are finally shrugging off their role as victims sacrificed to the undeserving.
Readers, doubtful that there are enough of us left with the courage to resist, remain skeptical that we can withstand the numbers of those we oppose. Let me assure you that men and women of courage can and will overcome all obstacles put before us. On 911 as the helpless streamed from those flaming buildings, firemen braved the flames and entered. A short while later, high over a field in Pennsylvania someone said "Let's roll" and they did, right into the pages of history, as they willingly gave their lives to stop another act of terrorism.
Without fail, when catastrophe strikes America the bold rise to the occasion as they will do once again when the need arises, and the liberal cowards among us who make so much noise about their right to free everything, will slink off to a safe hiding place until we restore their freedom to criticize us once again.
We now live in The Age of Obama and soon it will give way to The Age of Chaos for that was his purpose in usurping the power of the Presidency. He swore that oath of office with a hatred in his heart for those sacred words he parroted. His planned chaos will rule but briefly, for out of chaos comes order. That is the way of the universe, and it is the way of our species. What that "Order" is will be determined by those Americans with the courage to shape their own destiny. Should we fall short of victory then America will succumb to Marxism and sink into oblivion. If, as I believe, we triumph, we can and will rebuild America as the Forefather envisioned it.
July the 14th. 1861
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan never got the chance to mail the letter to his wife. The next morning began the first battle of Bull Run, and with the smoke so heavy he could not properly direct his men's fire, he assumed a position in front of them. A cannon ball severed his leg and killed the horse he was riding. Sullivan was carried from the field and taken to a hospital where they did what they could but failed to save his life. He died a week later from his wounds. The letter to his wife was discovered when a fellow officer was clearing his foot locker and he mailed these beautiful words to her. Nothing is known of her life after that, other than what was recorded in the family bible. She never remarried.