I’ve been a general. I’ve commanded multiple armies of men in some of the fiercest battles of the 20th Century and, if you ever played with plastic green Army men in your youth, so have you. You’ve been a general.
There was nothing greater than that moment one of your parents dropped a few dollars for a gigantic bag of these plastic figurines. You’d tear that bag open, strategically place them all throughout your house or yard, and let the battle begin.
All sorts of crazy stuff would happen. They’d fight each other, your other toys, any critters you had running around (which was the classic Godzilla battle scenario) and, if you had a magnifying glass, they’d have to go toe-to-toe with the sun.
However, there was always that one guy you didn’t know where to place. Unlike the other characters that had a certain role, this guy just stood straight up with his rifle over his head. We’ll call him Steve—and he was usually the first one to die.
Of course, as a real veteran of war, you now understand that Steve was meant to be fording a body of water. But in the battleground of your childhood, he served no purpose. Steve was worthless.
In your make-believe war, everyone in your army did their job…and then there was Steve.
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