That young woman wanted nothing else than the chance to explore her newfound freedom. She didn’t beg for help, or plead for her life. Voting would become her final act. In that moment, she matched our own sacrifices. Denfrund, Carlson, Sizemore. Iwan. Gonzales. Mock.
Our friends died to secure this day. And here on this road in Diyala, I saw proof that the blood spilled in this backward country had value. It made the cause noble and just. This may not mean much to someone who stands in opposition to our fight, but it is the legacy of our fallen. The honor of their sacrifice.
Go read it.
That's so great. Every election day, I remind my younger co-workers(sometimes they make me feel like only old fuddy duddys bother to vote) that there are men and women fighting and dying to protect and promote our freedoms - and one of those is the right to vote. The very least we can do is to go out and vote.
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