The national media, once again, is making a hero out of someone who really isn’t.

Robert Woodruff, an anchor for ABC, and his camerman, Doug Vogt, were injured in Iraq the other day. I’m thankful they’ll both be okay, but I’m hearing more of those distressing indicators that they’ll be “heroized” before they fully recover. The same goes for the young woman who was kidnapped by a bunch of terrorist thugs a couple weeks back.

With no disrespect intended toward any of the dozen or so newspaople, both print and broadcast, who get hurt coveringwars every year, barely a blessed one of them is, in my book, a hero. The folks that they are covering, the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines, those are the heroes, but for some reason when someone puts on a uniform and promises to protect their country, they become invisible.

It’s pretty darn easy in the news business to get shot at - the fact that I have on two occasions is a column for another day - but the reporter who gets in a place where angry people with guns and bombs want to kill anything American chooses to go there. It’s his or her own fault if something happens.

No reporter worth his salt will intentionally wall away from a story like a war, especially when it’s being twisted and turned into a political playtoy by people who’ve long since forgotten why they hate their President.

I can tolerate the politics, though, as long as people will remember the definition of a hero. Hint: there are far more soldiers than writers who qualify.

The real heroes are the ones who have no choice, our young men and women in uniform. They are the ones about whomwe should see hourly updates on the news channels, so we won’t take for granted, ever, the sacrifice they are willing to make for their country.

Take, for example, two men I know very well who are currently overseas.

One of them, a friend whose name I won’t publish and can only keep track of through mutual friends, is a medic in Afghanistan. He’s spent most of his adult life (and marriage) away from his family, learning how better to fight the unconventional war against people who fear freedom, and despise our way of life.

I missed him when he was home the last time, but from what I understand, the villagers he deals with on a daily basis are not like the grumbling complainers the TV folks always find. The people he has helped with basic healthcare that we take for granted - not to mention day-to-day injuries, old wounds from previous wars and wounds from the current conflict - they welcome our soldiers’ help.

You have to figure that people must like Americans if one is alone in a community where everyone has a high-capacity firearm, and is three generations into a callous disregard for human life.

The other fellow I’d like to use as an example is my nephew.

John Thomas loves to hunt, fish, drink beer with his buddies, and hang out. He is engaged to a lovely young lady down there in Louisiana. When Hurricane Katrina trashed the homes of his mother and father, sister and brother-in-law, and yet another sister - not to mention all the other kinfolk my Cajun relatives seem to acquire - John was in basic training for the U.S. Army.

John’s an interesting case, you see, because he already served once.

A couple of years ago, he was mustered out of the Navy for an injury (for the record, he was playing basketball). He has been under fire, evacuating American civilians during some foolishness in Indonesia. He knows full well that one can and often does get hurt in the service of his country. He did not have to sign up.

His mother is scared to death, and his father, who almost ended up in Vietnam, thinks John is nuts. Secretly, though, I think they’re both very proud.

A young man with a strong back and a sharp mind could easily make his fortune in Louisiana right now. Anyone with any kind of work ethic is guaranteed work in his hometown right now, and John Thomas is a hard worker.

But he didn’t try to get out of his service and go home to help his family recover. He didn’t quit and go home where he can make a heckuva lot more money than he will as a grunt carrying a rifle. He had to work long and hard to get through the red tape and rejoin the service of his country, but even when it would have been okay to quit, he didn’t.

John Thomas was sent to Korea, but his mom tells me he may soon be deployed to Iraq.

I have to stop and thionk every time I hear another report about a journalist who was hurt or killed in the war. I get angry when I listen to the talking heads both heroize said reporter and demonize President Bush and the war.

They all seem to miss the point.

A whole bunch of people who have lived in fear for years - either of religious zealots, or under the shadow of a madman - can now enjoy many of the freedoms we so often neglect.

They can vote for their leaders. They can speak freely.

They don’t have to worry about a government secret policeman kicking in the door and taking wives, children or property because they were critical of the wrong person.

Those people can enjoy those freedoms because Americans with guns and computers and medical bags and bulldozers left their homes, volunteered for service in their country’s military, and swore to go where the President sent them.

As much as I love my trade, and as much as I live for a good story, no journalist ever did that.

So don’t call Woodruff and vogt heroes. Good reporters, maybe, but folks, they ain’t heroes.

The heroes are like my friend in Afghanistan, my nephew, and all the others serving their country by helping others. Those are the ones all too often forgotten by the folks who should be telling their stories.

Weaver can be reached by calling 862-4163 or by e-mail at bjnews@bizec.rr.com.