PEGGY NOONAN's SPEECH

Here is a speech by Peggy Noonan. It was sent to me by my nephew. It is one that we all should take the time to read.
Gen Fred McCorkle sends this speech by Peggy Noonan,
who used to be Pres. Ronald Reagan's speech writer.

Let suffice to say the upper strata of Marine Corps
leadership is on the cc line of this e-mail.

Thanks and Semper Fi, General,


PEGGY NOONAN

'To Old Times'
A toast to American troops, then and now.
Friday, August 24, 2007 12:01 a.m. EDT

Once I went hot-air ballooning in Normandy. It was the
summer of 1991. It was exciting to float over the
beautiful French hills and the farms with crisp crops
in the fields. It was dusk, and we amused ourselves
calling out "Bonsoir!" to cows and people in little
cars. We had been up for an hour or so when we had a
problem and had to land. We looked for an open field,
aimed toward it, and came down a little hard. The
gondola dragged, tipped and spilled us out. A half
dozen of us emerged scrambling and laughing with
relief.

Suddenly before us stood an old man with a cracked and
weathered face. He was about 80, in rough work
clothes. He was like a Life magazine photo from 1938:
"French farmer hoes his field." He'd seen us coming
from his farmhouse and stood before us with a look of
astonishment as the huge bright balloon deflated and
tumbled about.

One of us spoke French and explained our situation.
The farmer said, or asked, "You are American." We
nodded, and he made a gesture--I'll be back!--and ran
to the house. He came back with an ancient bottle of
Calvados, the local brandy. It was literally covered
in dust and dry dirt, as if someone had saved it a
long time. He told us--this will seem unlikely, and it
amazed us--that he had not seen an American in many,
many years, and we asked when. "The invasion," he
said. The Normandy invasion.

Then he poured the Calvados and made a toast. I wish I
had notes on what he said. Our French speaker
translated it into something like, "To old times." And
we raised our glasses knowing we were having a moment
of unearned tenderness. Lucky Yanks, that a wind had
blown us to it. That was 16 years ago, and I haven't
seen some of the people with me since that day, but I
know every one of us remembers it and keeps it in his
good-memory horde.

He didn't welcome us because he knew us. He didn't
treat us like royalty because we had done anything for
him. He honored us because we were related to, were
the sons and daughters of, the men of the Normandy
Invasion. The men who had fought their way through
France hedgerow by hedgerow, who'd jumped from planes
in the dark and climbed the cliffs and given France
back to the French. He thought we were of their sort.
And he knew they were good. He'd seen them, when he
was young.

I've been thinking of the old man because of Iraq and
the coming debate on our future there. Whatever we do
or should do, there is one fact that is going to be
left on the ground there when we're gone. That is the
impression made by, and the future memories left by,
American troops in their dealings with the Iraqi
people.

I don't mean the impression left by the power and
strength of our military. I mean the impression left
by the character of our troops-- by their nature and
generosity, by their kindness. By their tradition of
these things. The American troops in Iraq, our men and
women, are inspiring, and we all know it. But whenever
you say it, you sound like a greasy pol: "I support
our valiant troops, though I oppose the war," or "If
you oppose the war, you are ignoring the safety and
imperiling the sacrifice of our gallant troops."

I suspect that in their sophistication--and they are
sophisticated--our
troops are grimly amused by this. Soldiers are used to
being used. They just do their job. We know of the
broad humanitarian aspects of the occupation--the
hospitals being built, the schools restored, the
services administered, the kids treated by armed
forces doctors. But then there are all the stories
that don't quite make it to the top of the heap, and
that in a way tell you more. The lieutenant in the
First Cavalry who was concerned about Iraqi kids in
the countryside who didn't have shoes, so he wrote
home, started a drive, and got 3,000 pairs sent over.
The lieutenant colonel from California who spent his
off-hours emailing hospitals back home to get a
wheelchair for a girl with cerebral palsy.

The Internet is littered with these stories. So is
Iraq. I always notice the
pictures from the wire services, pictures that have
nothing to do with
government propaganda. The Marine on patrol laughing
with the local street kids; the nurse treating the
sick mother. A funny thing. We're so used to thinking
of American troops as good guys that we forget:
They're good guys! They have American class. And it is
not possible that the good people of Iraq are not
noticing, and that in some way down the road the sum
of these acts will not come to have some special
meaning, some special weight of its own. The actor
Gary Sinise helps run Operation Iraqi Children, which
delivers school supplies with the help of U.S. forces.
When he visits Baghdad grade schools, the kids yell,
"Lieutenant Dan!"--his role in "Forrest Gump," the
story of another good man.

Some say we're the Roman Empire, but I don't think the
soldiers of Rome were known for their kindness, nor
the people of Rome for their decency. Some speak of
Abu Ghraib, but the humiliation of prisoners there was
news because it was American troops acting in a way
that was out of the order of things, and apart from
tradition. It was weird. And they were busted by other
American troops.

You could say soldiers of every country do some good
in war beyond fighting,and that is true enough. But
this makes me think of the statue I saw once in
Vienna, a heroic casting of a Red Army soldier. Quite
stirring. The man who showed it to me pleasantly said
it had a local nickname, "The Unknown Rapist." There
are similar memorials in Estonia and Berlin; they all
have the same nickname. My point is not to insult
Russian soldiers, who had been born into a world of
communism, atheism, and Stalin's institutionalization
of brutish ways of being. I only mean to note the
stellar reputation of American troops in the same war
at the same time. They were good guys. They're still
good.

We should ponder, some day when this is over, what it
is we do to grow such men, and women, what exactly
goes into the making of them. Whatever is decided in
Washington I hope our soldiers know what we really
think of them, and what millions in Iraq must, also. I
hope some day they get some earned tenderness, and
wind up over the hills of Iraq, and land, and an old
guy comes out and says, "Are you an American?" And
they say yes and he says, "A toast, to old times."

Ms. Noonan is a contributing editor of The Wall Street
Journal and author of "John Paul the Great:
Remembering a Spiritual Father" (Penguin, 2005),
which you can order from the Opinion Journal bookstore

Her column appears
Fridays on OpinionJournal.com.