One man’s warrior is another man’s sacrificial lamb.

Updated: May 7, 2020

I was feeling particularly proud earlier today. Let me tell you why. In my life I’d been a student, a husband, a father, a teacher, a coach, a writer—even a baker. And I’ve fixed some faucets and baked bread too.

A full life? Maybe, but up until today I’d never been a warrior—never knew I wanted to be—but I felt a thrill unlike any other when my president told me that indeed I was one! I will admit, my enthusiasm was dampened a bit when he said every American was a warrior, but even so, I was quite proud.


The thing is, I thought you had to do something great to be considered a warrior, so having the bar lowered so much that everybody can get leap it, well that was disappointing. But still—a warrior is a warrior. Then I wondered, how will this change my life? Will I need a uniform? Do I get a weapon? Will I be able to buy insurance from USAA? I asked around, but none of the other warriors seemed to know the answers. Even my wife, who keeps up with things better than I do, wasn’t sure...but I did learn one interesting fact: she’s a warrior too!


That shocked me, not that she’s not capable, but the president obviously has a problem with women not from Slovenia (and at least one from Slovenia), and I was gratified to see that this new band of warriors did not fall victim to gender bias. (I learned later that children of all ages had been chosen too—it is good to learn a trade now that formal education has been suspended...although...couldn’t it be dangerous for kids? I’ll have to ask my C.O.—as soon as I find out who he is, and where.)


So this evening I’m just waiting for orders. I don’t know if I’m shipping out, especially since here in Connecticut nobody is shipping anywhere until at least May 20. I guess can wait. But already I'm feeling anxious. I overheard someone say that warrior was just another word for cannon fodder but without the cannon. That would mean all of us newly minted warriors were expendable, that women and children were expendable; and the elderly, and infants, the physically challenged, mentally unstable—all expendable. In fact everyone who could get the economy back on its feet by working or buying was expendable.


I hope that’s not true, because there seems to be no escape clause in my warrior contract; in fact, there are no clauses of any kind...and no contract either. Someone once said that a verbal contract isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on: I hope that’s true. Because I’m already beginning to rethink the honor that was bestowed upon me.


Maybe I've been a warrior long enough already. And I did hear that the president has a solid retirement plan for us. I'll have to check into it.


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