Heís a fireman. He puts it all on the line when the bell rings. A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men. Heís a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death. Heís a gentle man because he has seen the awesome power of violence out of control.
Heís responsive to a childís laughter because his arms have held too many small bodies that will never laugh again. Heís a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life - hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaraderie of brave men - the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.
He doesnít wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities. When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade. He doesnít preach the brotherhood of man. He lives it.