Folks:
A fellow veteran E-mailed this to me, this morning. I thought some of you might enjoy it.
Gary
To Brittney Griner
Dear Mrs. Griner:
We hope this letter finds you in good health and we understand you are having some rough times in your life.
We are a group of old, Vietnam combat veterans, from North Carolina. Our average age is over seventy. We call ourselves The Bunker Boys. We spent a lot of time living in rat- and snake-infested holes in the ground, known as bunkers, within compounds known, affectionately, as fire bases.
When we were not in the bunkers, we were crawling through the jungle, being shot at and shooting back, at little people, wearing black pajamas.
We must be honest and tell you that, the only thing we may have in common, with you, is that, we, too, were drafted. We noticed you were drafted, number one, in the WNBA draft, a few years ago. Since we all were drafted, we thought we might let you know what it was like, when we were drafted. Unlike you, most of us had no college education. The people of the United States drafted us. We consisted of all colors, religions and personal beliefs. We had no choice, on the team for which we played for: Army, Navy, Air Force or Marines.
We were sent, halfway around the world, to fight, then kill, people we didn’t know, in a place many of us had never heard of. We were paid, we know you can relate to this, an average of $3, per day, sometimes required to work 24 hours a day, if needed.
When we returned home, many or most of us were treated very badly, by our fellow Americans. We were spit on, hit by bottles and rocks, as the police stood by, just watching. We did not complain; each of us just continued our lives, then made the best of it.
We fought for god, family, country and, of course, the flag and the National Anthem; a poem, which was written by, of all people, a lawyer. He wrote the poem, as he watched bombs fall on, then kill, fellow Americans.
Ever since that night, our nation has played that little poem, before the start of millions of social functions. For some people it’s just a little song. For a veteran, it’s a reminder of how many men and women, of all colors, have given their lives, so the rest can have the right to be free.
We found, in our research, that you requested that the National Anthem not be played, at any sporting events. We find it odd that, now, you are requesting the citizens, of the United States, to pay for your release, from a jail, in Russia.
Yes, we, the taxpayers, are paying for all of those diplomats, who are working on your release. Our government told you, as well as all fellow Americans, who were in Russia, to leave Russia, after the invasion of the Ukraine.
You wanted to play basketball, in a country which is known to treat Americans badly. You fly a great deal and must know, by now, all the rules of what one can bring into a country. All of us, who travel, know the rules for entering a foreign country. You are a guest and must go by the rules of their land. Yet, by your own admission, you were attempting to bring an illegal substance into a country, which is known for its long prison sentences. You had to know this because, you hold a college degree and are making a million dollars a year, just for playing a game. At six feet, nine inches, tall, you know that security officers are going to focus on you, from the moment you stand in the boarding pass line.
We noticed, also, that you are now claiming that you accidentally placed the drugs in your luggage. Please, that is something an 18 year old might say. We discovered, also, that your net income is around $ 5 million, for playing a game.
For old guys, like us, many living on fixed incomes, that’s a lot of money, for just playing a game. Don’t get us wrong; we are not against you. We all went, then fought, so all Americans can have the freedom to make their own choices. We just hope that, the next time you have to endure the playing of that little poem, you will pay closer attention to the “ land of the free” part.
We wish you the very best,
The Bunker Boys
A fellow veteran E-mailed this to me, this morning. I thought some of you might enjoy it.
Gary
To Brittney Griner
Dear Mrs. Griner:
We hope this letter finds you in good health and we understand you are having some rough times in your life.
We are a group of old, Vietnam combat veterans, from North Carolina. Our average age is over seventy. We call ourselves The Bunker Boys. We spent a lot of time living in rat- and snake-infested holes in the ground, known as bunkers, within compounds known, affectionately, as fire bases.
When we were not in the bunkers, we were crawling through the jungle, being shot at and shooting back, at little people, wearing black pajamas.
We must be honest and tell you that, the only thing we may have in common, with you, is that, we, too, were drafted. We noticed you were drafted, number one, in the WNBA draft, a few years ago. Since we all were drafted, we thought we might let you know what it was like, when we were drafted. Unlike you, most of us had no college education. The people of the United States drafted us. We consisted of all colors, religions and personal beliefs. We had no choice, on the team for which we played for: Army, Navy, Air Force or Marines.
We were sent, halfway around the world, to fight, then kill, people we didn’t know, in a place many of us had never heard of. We were paid, we know you can relate to this, an average of $3, per day, sometimes required to work 24 hours a day, if needed.
When we returned home, many or most of us were treated very badly, by our fellow Americans. We were spit on, hit by bottles and rocks, as the police stood by, just watching. We did not complain; each of us just continued our lives, then made the best of it.
We fought for god, family, country and, of course, the flag and the National Anthem; a poem, which was written by, of all people, a lawyer. He wrote the poem, as he watched bombs fall on, then kill, fellow Americans.
Ever since that night, our nation has played that little poem, before the start of millions of social functions. For some people it’s just a little song. For a veteran, it’s a reminder of how many men and women, of all colors, have given their lives, so the rest can have the right to be free.
We found, in our research, that you requested that the National Anthem not be played, at any sporting events. We find it odd that, now, you are requesting the citizens, of the United States, to pay for your release, from a jail, in Russia.
Yes, we, the taxpayers, are paying for all of those diplomats, who are working on your release. Our government told you, as well as all fellow Americans, who were in Russia, to leave Russia, after the invasion of the Ukraine.
You wanted to play basketball, in a country which is known to treat Americans badly. You fly a great deal and must know, by now, all the rules of what one can bring into a country. All of us, who travel, know the rules for entering a foreign country. You are a guest and must go by the rules of their land. Yet, by your own admission, you were attempting to bring an illegal substance into a country, which is known for its long prison sentences. You had to know this because, you hold a college degree and are making a million dollars a year, just for playing a game. At six feet, nine inches, tall, you know that security officers are going to focus on you, from the moment you stand in the boarding pass line.
We noticed, also, that you are now claiming that you accidentally placed the drugs in your luggage. Please, that is something an 18 year old might say. We discovered, also, that your net income is around $ 5 million, for playing a game.
For old guys, like us, many living on fixed incomes, that’s a lot of money, for just playing a game. Don’t get us wrong; we are not against you. We all went, then fought, so all Americans can have the freedom to make their own choices. We just hope that, the next time you have to endure the playing of that little poem, you will pay closer attention to the “ land of the free” part.
We wish you the very best,
The Bunker Boys