I was messing with my dog tags today, a habit by now.
I run my thumb over the raised print.
Dog tags are symbolic of soldiers. But why. I never really thought about it.
Society turned them into a fashion statement. People walk around with diamond-laden dog tags hanging down to their belt buckles, swinging them around. So there must be something that attracted the world to the dog tag.
The purpose of them is to identify a fallen soldier. Something sacred and gruesome all at once.
In essence, I guess they symbolize the soldier's willingness to sacrifice their life. They represent the acknowledgement that their life may be sacrificed in such a way that they will be otherwise unrecognizeable. I guess that's heroic. I guess people are attracted to the thought that somewhere deep inside of them, lies a hero. Maybe thats why the little pieces of metal turned into big pieces of flair.
But I wonder, now with a deployment in my tangible future, can I live up to the expectations that surround the dog tags I wear around my neck?
I trace my thumb around the print again. I think of all those that have worn dog tags before me, and wonder about those that will come after me. Will it be my son? My grand-daughter? Each set of tags has a story.
Then I wonder what story my tags will have to tell. Will they hang proudly long after my retirement, a sentimental trinket to an old woman with a lifetime of stories.
Or will they serve their purpose?
I run my thumb over the raised print.
Dog tags are symbolic of soldiers. But why. I never really thought about it.
Society turned them into a fashion statement. People walk around with diamond-laden dog tags hanging down to their belt buckles, swinging them around. So there must be something that attracted the world to the dog tag.
The purpose of them is to identify a fallen soldier. Something sacred and gruesome all at once.
In essence, I guess they symbolize the soldier's willingness to sacrifice their life. They represent the acknowledgement that their life may be sacrificed in such a way that they will be otherwise unrecognizeable. I guess that's heroic. I guess people are attracted to the thought that somewhere deep inside of them, lies a hero. Maybe thats why the little pieces of metal turned into big pieces of flair.
But I wonder, now with a deployment in my tangible future, can I live up to the expectations that surround the dog tags I wear around my neck?
I trace my thumb around the print again. I think of all those that have worn dog tags before me, and wonder about those that will come after me. Will it be my son? My grand-daughter? Each set of tags has a story.
Then I wonder what story my tags will have to tell. Will they hang proudly long after my retirement, a sentimental trinket to an old woman with a lifetime of stories.
Or will they serve their purpose?
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