Coming home from getting done over at the hospital today I saw my first Federal Marshals. This in my Brooklyn 'hood in front of our library. Unlike the sort out on the coast. These folks had federal insignia. I saw these were legit. Not the phony movie prop "...Police" patches worn in Portland.

I chatted with a few. 

Spoke about the heat thanked them for their service said they should be careful. They were reserved, but polite. I asked if there was trouble in the library. They said no, but didn't elaborate. 

In my centuries of experience with cops. When they're not roughing me up.  I've found that acknowledging their humanity, and that they're in an impossible situation can get through the barriers...not always, but sometimes.

I was standing with fellow humans, and was concerned for them. These were not the figures in the frightful videos. These were real souls I was speaking to. They're human beings. I also noticed the culture of arms within them. By their every movement the were protecting each other.

How hard it must be to be a warrior. 

Worse to be in a war declared or not. From their Esprit de corps I could feel that they would do whatever they had to if ordered. Such for our whole history is the soldier's lot. 

I came away from this meeting with a world of mixed feelings. Nothing is simple especially in conflict.  

They were professional reserved and, though polite. They gave no information, and didn't break ranks. The warriors life the ancient culture of arms. I will never understand what they understand.

We must pray for them as we do for all.