Belleau, France, at the Devil Dog Fountain. It was haunting how quiet this place was, but you could feel the presence of great men, and the silent screams of the American youth as they destroyed the enemy with lead, steel, and overwhelming, relentless aggression. We were 11 when 9-11 came, and we called each other to promise that we'd go fight the bad guys when we were old enough. It's been 23 years since our youth, and our lives have pulled us in a thousand different directions. But this year, I am thankful for a friendship that lasts a life time, the bond of the brotherhood we are a part of that only drives us closer, and I am thankful for the time we got to spend making the pilgrimage to the sacred grounds of Belleau Wood and return to the place from which we earned the name, "Devil Dogs."