They are the ones who protect me. I am the one who is grateful for them. Four brave men with with camouflage coats and giving personalities. Four who walk the mountains where they are not welcome. Four determined Navy Seals in the crossfire of terrorist ammunition. From our country we can’t see or hear them, but we still appreciate the work they do.

Their teamwork is undeniable. They stay alert and cover each other’s backs. They feel the rugged Afghan soil beneath their feet and the piercing sound of enemy footsteps. This is what they prepare for.

Let one get shot, the blood would drip like rain, each bullet hole ignored and packed with dirt. Pow, pow, pow they return gunfire all night. They never surrender.

When I am too ungrateful and too tired to get up in the morning, when I am pawn in a much larger game, then I remember the men.  When there is nothing to look forward to in the day. Four who fought despite the odds. Four who shed blood. Four whose reason is to let us be free.