A Letter From An Army Combat Veteran To His Younger Brother

Have you ever realized at a very special moment that you are experiencing just that? A special moment? Like a torch passed from one runner to another, like a business handed down from father to son, like a sentimental piece of jewelry passed from one generation to the next.

I was privileged to witness such a moment recently.

Yesterday my younger son gave me the honor of asking me to read a letter sent to him by his older brother. A letter he carries in his wallet which already has the look of being read many times already.

I witnessed the passing of the torch.

Seven years ago our country was attacked but my older son was already signed up for basic training in the Army. Our family experienced what so many others did after that: having a family member in a war. While older generations remember the attack of Pearl Harbor, they may have experienced a sense of deja vu. I'm experiencing it myself these days.

With a little something extra.

A letter full of advice, pride, reassurance, trust, integrity and love has been written: an older brother giving a younger brother tips on how to make it through basic and beyond. Everything from the weeding of the weak to becoming the strong...the mental and physical...listen to the men "who have been appointed to lead you-they have been in the s***, Jeremy, listen to them. If you do that one day you'll be doing the leading-that I promise." Re-stating again that he believes his little brother is the smartest guy he knows and will go all the way with his goals. Tips on not drinking and driving and respecting himself and the women he comes in contact with.

And a promise that fills my heart with hope and faith: "I've got a million more things to tell you but that's enough for now. I'll be here for you if you have any questions. Never hesitate to ask me, little bro. I'm proud of you, Jeremy. One day you'll understand exactly why. For now, walk tall and be proud of yourself, hero. I love you and give our sister a big hug for me. Just do it and quit your whining!"

It was the passing of the torch. And I had a front row seat.