The military tradition in my family, on this continent, goes all the way back to 1750, before it even was a nation. Males of each and every generation served. Our family tradition has always held that, if you wanted to continue to partake of the blessings of liberty, then you had to ante up. We weren't always good at it, but we always showed up. My grandfather. His brothers. My father. Me. All three of my sons. We all served. All the way back to the beginning. At one point, one of my sons was even deployed to Kandahar while I was near Garm Ser. That's two generations in one war. But no more. That's it. We're done. If the us.gov is out of the, "securing the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our prosperity" (as they increasing appear to have been for some time now), then so are we. 272 years of family tradition, down the shitter. Historically speaking, 235 years is not a bad run for a republic, as such things go. But it's been running on fumes for the last 50 years now. The Roman empire didn't end when the Visigoths showed up at the gates. That was just the final nail in the coffin. It ended when the average Roman citizen looked around himself and didn't see anything left that was worth his life to try and protect anymore. <--This is where we find ourselves now. "*Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I've seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "Save us!" ...and I'll look down, and whisper "No.*" - Rorshach's journal, October 12th, 1985