Mobilize

A friend of mine got drafted this week. He’s being sent to the frontline somewhere in Donetsk near Bakhmut, a real hotspot. He has had a lot of training to prepare for this moment, but there’s a whole world of difference between running the range and getting thrown out in the field. Lots of the most experienced soldiers die, and many of the most inexperienced survive. Experience doesn’t account for much when you’re dodging drones and mortars and missiles. 

But as another friend said, “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

We’re all praying for him. 

Lots of folks have been pulled to the front lately. More and more young men dread turning 25. The grinder demands more meat. This war is hungry, and Russians and Ukrainians taste the same. Blood must be sacrificed to the old gods of thunder and soil. Even in a 21st Century war where up to 60% of the casualties are caused by drones, the masculine impulse to throw men into the meat-grinder hasn’t changed since the “Great” War. Just like in 1917, people are starting to wake up to the idea that this war can’t be won traditionally. 

Ukraine is now massively developing new technology and tactics, but it’s too late for the dead.

So, here’s a prayer for the living-impaired.

Here’s a prayer for the fresh-meat. 

Here’s a prayer for a lost-generation.

May the winds be at your back. May their hateful bullets miss by millimeters. May you have many close calls. May you see many sunrises. May you savor every sunset. May you walk through the valley of the shadow of death. May you fear no evil. May you never forget your friends. And may your friends never forget you. May you never know your enemies. And may your enemies never know you. May the gods and goddesses smile upon you. And may God have mercy on your souls. 

May the last day of war come soon. May the first day of war fade fast. May the memories of murder and mayhem fade faster. May the memories of fallen friends never fade. May they live forever in the hearts of the survivors. May they rest peacefully in the halls of their fathers. May they never again know hunger. May they never again know fear. May they smile down upon us. And may we see them in the sky. May we feel them in our hearts. And may we feel them in our souls. May we honor them with our words. And may we honor them with our deeds. May we live for them. And may we die for them. May we never waste a moment. And when the last sun sets, may we join them in the sky.