The individual whom I feel best exemplifies the term patriot, is a gentleman of peace, and dignity. He is a man who never raises his voice except in song or to cheer. He has never raised his hand in anger, and has never committed a violent act in all of the years that I have had the pleasure of knowing him. He, proudly, unfurls the American flag in front of his home each morning, and respectfully draws it down each evening at dusk. He believes in democracy, stands behind our president in good times, and in bad, and is a staunch believer in our Constitution's Bill of Rights. He holds no prejudice, and sees individuals for what they are, not what color they are.

On the wall of this man's study hang several photographs, rows of ribbons and a Bronze Star citation. These accolades bear mute testimony to a side of this man that surfaced many years ago when he answered America's call and went to fight in the Vietnam War.

He was very young back then, and just ten days after graduating from high school, he traded in his opportunity for college and enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. He went, overnight, from a quiet river valley in central New Hampshire, to the humid, malevolent, environs of Parris Island, South Carolina, where brutal drill instructors were hastily transforming bright-eyed boys into fighting machines.

I have often asked him about his experiences back in those wild days of his youth, and it has always taken considerable prodding to get him to open up about what was apparently a living nightmare. When he has spoken with me of his experiences, he always gets a faraway look in his eyes, and sometimes I have seen tears well up when images of death and destruction have brought painful memories back up to the surface.

He first served as a Scout for battalion intelligence with the Third Marines at Guantanemo Bay, Cuba. While there, he was a part of a twelve-man team that spent the nights working out along the massive chain link fence that acts as a deterrent to Cuban trespassers. He and his group found this duty invaluable, because many of the situations that they were placed in, taught them lessons that they would later be able to use in Vietnam.

After six months of night observations, patrols, and aiding refugees escaping from the iron fist of Fidel Castro's dictatorial regime, he returned to the United States. He attended several jungle/guerilla warfare schools, and then was shipped offto the Republic of South Vietnam.

Upon arrival at the airport in Danang, he immediately volunteered to join the elite fighting unit known as Force Reconnaissance. By doing so, the dangerous environment which he had just entered became even more so.

During the next twelve months and twenty days, he spent his time conducting patrols, along with nine other Marines, deep in the jungled highlands. He, and his unit, were flown by helicopters and then they rapelled down through the dense canopies on nylon ropes. For two weeks at a time, they would sneak through the mountains and valleys, gathering vital intelligence information concerning enemy troop concentrations. They would direct fixed wing, artillery, and naval gunfire barrages upon enemy positions, conduct hit and run ambushes, and capture enemy troops for interrogation.

As if these duties were not enough. He volunteered to be trained in SCUBA and underwater demolition by the U.S. Navy SEALS, and went on to dive around many of the bridges in the I Corps sector of South Vietnam. He, along with other frogmen, defused enemy explosives, and explored enemy hideouts that could only be entered through underwater entrances. They also did body searches for American military personnel who had drowned.

I look at this man with wonder and awe. How he could do all of this for his country, and then come "home" to be belittled, and castigated, by those who did not have the will to answer when their country called, and not be bitter and angry, is hard for me to imagine.

This man goes through the day-to-day trials and tribulations of making a living and offering a good home to those whom he loves. I am lucky, because this patriot is my father, and I will always be thankful to him, and what he has done for our country, and consequently for me.