For the past two years I have been researching and writing about a career soldier who died on foreign soil.  Every day I marvel at his dedication to his King and country, and the sacrifices that he made through his service. And almost every day, I cry a little bit to think that he never returned home to his beloved England and Ireland and never again saw the friends and family he left behind. He was a wealthy man who could have chosen a different path. He did not have a wife to mourn for him. By the time his countrymen at home learned of his death, he had been cold in the ground for six months. I hope someone shed tears for him then. I pray for him now. Our fallen warriors are precious. We are indebted to them. May we be worthy of their sacrifice.