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"Taps"
Composed By Major General Daniel Butterfield
Army of the Potomac, Civil War
"Fading light dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar drawing nigh -- Falls the night.
"Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky.
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.
"Then good night, peaceful night,
Till the light of the dawn shineth bright,
God is near, do not fear -- Friend, good night."
============================
"TAPS is the most beautiful bugle call. Played slowly and softly, it has a smooth, tender and touching character. The bugle call was written during the Peninsula Campaign of the Civil War by General Butterfield, with an assist from his bugler, Oliver W. Norton, in 1862.
"TAPS" went on from its origin as an alternative to "Lights Out" to become not only a signal that day was done, but also to say good-bye to a fallen comrade.
"TAPS" is customarily played at funerals at Arlington national Cemetery as well as at ceremonies at the Tomb of the Unknowns there.
Its composer is buried in the Post Cemetery at the United States Military Academy at West Point (even though he did not graduate from the Academy).
Tommorrow....when you visit the final resting places of those who gave their last ounce of devotion......tell them..."THANK YOU".
Then use the knowledge of their sacrifice...to help you to fight the tyranny that is before us.
It's plain and it's simple.
God bless you all.
redrock
A quiet peaceful BUMP of gratitude.
redrock
A BUMP of total reverance...for those who gave all.
redrock
BUMP....quietly...for those who sleep.
redrock
BUMP...with love and reverance...for them.
redrock
A BUMP of respect for our Fallen Brothers.
redrock
BUMP...for the Honoured Soldiers.
redrock
BUMP....for those who gave their last ounce of Devotion.
redrock
Although I don't like Spielberg, the opening of "Saving Private Ryan," where the rows of crosses are shown, and the ending, when you find out that the lead character was the one who never made it home caught a spirit that overwhelmed me.
The saddest part is, the last statement of Hank's character, "Earn this." wasn't just directed to the character he saved. It was directed at all of us. And I don't think we have.
It pains me that the 50th anniversery of every tragic and heroic World War II battle was presided over by a communist who went to visit Lenin's tomb instead of answering his country's call.
BUMP.....quietly and reverently.
redrock
BUMP...for our fallen comrades.
redrock
A poem that I was given to share with Veterans and Friends of Veterans.
DO YOU WONDER?
Do you stand like me back from the Wall
For the Nam Vets in DC?
Of the veterans you see?
Do you cringe with pain as I do
Feeling empathy for them
And all the while still holding back
What we too feel within?
Do you wonder at the way the tears
Come rushing like a flood
To the eyes of aging soldiers
Now remembering the blood
Of buddies lost while over there
And wounded ones sent home
--A place no longer home to them
They were each in hell alone
And do you wonder why it took
So long for them to come
To be here with their fallen kin
Where they could come undone?
Why is their grief so raw and strong
So many years gone by?
I think it is because of how
They've kept it all inside
How many years were they denied
The healing they must need
Their memories of pain and loss
Lay dormant like a seed
A nation wished to know them not
Respect was seldom shown
And they were robbed, our valiant ones
Of the feelings that they owned
Until at last when now they meet
They're brothers, sisters all
They grace us with their pain and tears
Here at the soldiers' Wall
They touch the names of those they've missed
Their agonies emerge
And they hold on to each other
While strong emotions surge
They need each other -- we need them!
And all of us need Grace
To bear the grief so long delayed
To offer our embrace
They are our brothers too, I see
And sisters, we have shunned
They served with valor in the war
But here they were outgunned
So if you wonder why they weep
Those warriors who've hung on
Remember theirs is pent up grief
They've held it in too long
So now let's show them that we care
As now they come to weep
The tears that will bring healing
And let's all their vigils keep
And nevermore leave them alone
But rather hold them tight
Within our arms, as in our hearts
At last let's treat them right
Vicki Spencer
Tulsa, Oklahoma
May 2000 Memorial Day
For the veterans
Bump...for those who gave everything they had.
A poem that I was given to share with Veterans and Friends of Veterans.
DO YOU WONDER?
Do you stand like me back from the Wall
For the Nam Vets in DC?
Of the veterans you see?
Do you cringe with pain as I do
Feeling empathy for them
And all the while still holding back
What we too feel within?
Do you wonder at the way the tears
Come rushing like a flood
To the eyes of aging soldiers
Now remembering the blood
Of buddies lost while over there
And wounded ones sent home
--A place no longer home to them
They were each in hell alone
And do you wonder why it took
So long for them to come
To be here with their fallen kin
Where they could come undone?
Why is their grief so raw and strong
So many years gone by?
I think it is because of how
They've kept it all inside
How many years were they denied
The healing they must need
Their memories of pain and loss
Lay dormant like a seed
A nation wished to know them not
Respect was seldom shown
And they were robbed, our valiant ones
Of the feelings that they owned
Until at last when now they meet
They're brothers, sisters all
They grace us with their pain and tears
Here at the soldiers' Wall
They touch the names of those they've missed
Their agonies emerge
And they hold on to each other
While strong emotions surge
They need each other -- we need them!
And all of us need Grace
To bear the grief so long delayed
To offer our embrace
They are our brothers too, I see
And sisters, we have shunned
They served with valor in the war
But here they were outgunned
So if you wonder why they weep
Those warriors who've hung on
Remember theirs is pent up grief
They've held it in too long
So now let's show them that we care
As now they come to weep
The tears that will bring healing
And let's all their vigils keep
And nevermore leave them alone
But rather hold them tight
Within our arms, as in our hearts
At last let's treat them right
Vicki Spencer
Tulsa, Oklahoma
May 2000 Memorial Day
For the veterans
I Agree.
Please see: Memorial Day--Thread One-- "Earn This"
Thanks
redrock
Beautiful.
If you know the author,please tell her that a slightly worn out ex-combat medic was in grateful tears at her poem.
MEMORIAL DAY....for them.
redrock
BUMP....quietly...with Honour....for them.
redrock
And nevermore leave them alone But rather hold them tight Within our arms, as in our hearts At last let's treat them right
How does a nation say 'I'm sorry'?
How does a nation say 'I'm sorry'?
IMHO, The Wall was a start.
5.56mm
Great poem.
5.56mm
The 10 pounds of weights Tom Schepers wears around his waist, the flags he totes, the money he tries to raise and the miles he runs. None of it's supposed to be easy. Rather, it's all to remind him of the sacrifices vets have made.
Schepers, 54, is about to embark on his most difficult journey. Beginning June 6 (the 56th anniversary of D-Day, when the Allies invaded occupied France during World War II), he will take off from Camp Pendleton, Calif., on a cross-country run that is to end Nov. 11, Veterans Day, in Washington, D.C. He's running to raise awareness of and money for the planned World War II Memorial in Washington.
As he has for 15 years, Schepers, a decorated Vietnam vet, will run carrying the U.S. flag and an MIA-POW flag on a 10-foot pole. He'll run 25 miles a day, six days a week until he's completed the 3,300 miles.
What makes Schepers run?
The other day, I joined him for a short (by his standards) jog through the neighborhoods around his South St. Paul home. I strapped on the weights. And, for 1 mile on a windy 4-mile run, I carried the flags.
"Isn't it beautiful the way they snap in the wind?" Schepers said.
"I don't think so, Tom," I said, arms aching.
"It's like they're snapping to attention," he said. "You've got to think of it as an honor to carry them."
I asked: "How you going to get these things over the mountains?" He answered: "It's not supposed to be easy. It's an honor to carry these flags."
But how does he plan to deal with altitude? I asked.
"I s'pose I'll breathe harder," he said.
Drivers beep their horns in appreciation as Schepers runs down the streets, dipping the flags to keep them from tangling in low tree branches. Kids stare from the sidewalks. Dogs bark.
Day after day he runs, always carrying the flags and wearing the weighted belt.
Surely, there are all sorts of profound psychological motivations for Schepers. He talks a little about "survivor's guilt." A Marine, he was shot in the leg and foot while in Vietnam and was not supposed to walk again. But first he walked and now he runs, and he can never forget the buddies who didn't survive.
For the most part, Schepers is reluctant to talk about the stuff that has driven him to run -- first for causes related to Vietnam-era issues; then to help raise money for a Minnesota memorial for Korean War veterans; and now for the WWII vets.
It should be noted that, other than running long distances while carrying flags on a lighted, 10-foot pole draped with rosary beads ("sometimes I need a prayer to keep me going"), Schepers is a pretty normal guy. He's a paramedic who is married to a very patient woman. They have three college-aged kids. After a 25-mile training run, he enjoys a beer and a pizza. He jokes about himself.
"My wife says, 'What's the next project, World War I?' " he said, laughing.
It should also be pointed out that even though he's probably the only guy you'll see running across the country carrying flags and wearing a weighted belt, he is convincing when he says he's not trying to draw attention to himself.
"I am the messenger," he says repeatedly.
In his view, he will be like some Biblical prophet. He will stumble in from the desert, or down from the mountains, and he'll draw crowds in each of the hundreds of small towns he'll run through.
"The streets will be lined with people," he said. "At first, the attention will be on me. But I will explain I'm just a messenger. There will be WWII veterans along the streets, and I intend to turn the attention to them. I'll say, 'Don't pay attention to me, listen to their stories. They're the people who accomplished so much. They're the reason we're free. We're losing a thousand of the WWII generation every day. Let them know they're appreciated.' "
The VFW, the American Legion and the National World War II Memorial Campaign are among the organizations endorsing Schepers' effort. And he has a cadre of loyal local supporters who have been raising money to cover the cost of this venture. But even with the help of some Twin Cities-area radio stations, which have held fund-raising promotions, raising money has been tough. He figures he needs $50,000 to cover six months of lost work time, food and a support vehicle. So far, he has raised $18,000.
"That's enough to get me out of California," Schepers said.
Isn't he worried about whether the rest of the money can be raised?
"It's not supposed to be easy," he said.
To contribute to Schepers' run, write WWII Veterans Run, Attn: Kathy Wolner, Bremer Bank, 6800 Cahill Av. E., Inver Grove Heights, MN 55075.
© Copyright 2000 Star Tribune. All rights reserved.
God Bless America from a 4 year-old
Your link didn't work. I remember hearing your daughter singing this some time ago and wanted to hear her again. So sweet and beautiful.
bumping for our lost hero's.
Good post.
5.56mm
A four year old!?
I wish I could sing so good.
5.56mm
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Semper Fi
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
--KING HENRY V, Act IV, Scene III
I bookmarked the link.
We need to take our shoes off before we begin reading,....... it is so holy. It helps to keep my heart praying for my country. . . . and praying and praying.......
a quiet bump...
"It's not supposed to be easy,"
He UNDERSTANDS the very nature of what a Citizen is......
Is there a way to find our his route? Would love to be there....
redrock
Hope ya don't mind....but have downloaded it and kept it....(from another thread) for my two little girls.
They seem to want to sing-a-long with it.
And that..is a Good thing.
Have a Safe Memorial Day.
redrock
They still live....if we Remember Them.
redrock
I teach a lot of foreigners where I work. We get off Veteran's Day November 11th. None of them has a clue as to what these holidays are. It is always my immense pleasure to explain to them what these days mean.
In simple terms, on November 11, Veterans Day, we honor the soldiers still alive. On Memorial Day we honor the dead ones. They ALL get it.
This story shall the good man teach his son,
--KING HENRY V, Act IV, Scene III
Tommorrow.....MEMORIAL DAY.....for our fallen Brothers.
redrock
MEMORIAL DAY....for those men,and women,who names are on that WALL.
I will NEVER forget my Brothers.
redrock
O, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand,
Between their lov'd homes and the war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us as a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause is just,
And this be out motto: "In God is our trust"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
God bless My America -- and all who serve!
... quiet bump ...
A time to pay respect to those
Who rallied to the battle cry -
Who gave their lives for liberty -
Those freedoms for you and I.
Such a waste of brave young souls -
Some still struggling through their youth
Who faced and fell willingly
Before wartimes' awful truth.
So as we share this holiday
With our friends or family -
Take a moment to give thanks to
Those who died so we'd stay free.
Let us strive for world peace -
For the end of greed and hate -
For next time, after "the war"
It just may be too damned late.
By Del "Abe" Jones [Copyright, 1991]
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What a fine and fitting place to land right after having come home from Church.
My husband and I have a dear friend who served as a medic in Vietnam. He has led a troubled life ever since. I recently told him about FreeRepublic ... sort of nagged him, truth be told, to visit this site. During the last several days I have seen a poster whose remarks ring very familiar. If I am correct, for I would never ask, please consider this as a thank you note. Actually, consider it one regardless. Because if one noble, weary warrior has found himself a safe harbor here at last, it is surely due to you all. I truly thank you.
Thank you Redrock!! This was a beautiful series of articles you did!! I will be sure to remember all the patriots who have given service to our country on this day!!! Prayers of thanksgiving for them and for our FREEDOM!!!
When I see those posters from WWII....I am always reminded of the Valour and Courage needed....by "those who wait".
To me....MEMORIAL DAY...is for them too.
redrock
Bump
for those who held while others slept...
We ALL need to get it!!!
For THERE...is our "starting point"....to bind us together..in our effort to reclaim our Country.
Thanks...
redrock
The Future depends upon us teaching these things to our Children.
redrock
-- quiet bump --
BUMP....For the Thin Red Line.........
redrock
Thanks for the Heads Up.
If you have access to C-SPAN turn it on right now, they are showing the Rolling Thunder ride on DC. The Bikes have been leaving for over an hour now and the parking lot of the Pentagon is still full.
The Speakers will start at 1300CST.
The gun grabbers had their million mom march and that was all that was on the news for weeks. It will be interesting to see if thisa ride even gets a passing mention on the news.
We need to organize a Million Veterans March and make our voice be heard loud and clear from one side of this country to the other.
I would love to see every single courthouse and public building across the nation be marched on be Vets and the public officials forced to listen to our cares and concerns.
Until we speak up as one giant voice we will never be heard.
AMEN!!
Thank You!!!
redrock
A quiet...Thank You!!
redrock
These threads have been absolutely incredible.
Thank you so much for the work you have done setting them up. These threads are a glowing example of the fierce patriotism and honor of FReepers everywhere.
Thank You again for all your outstanding work on them.
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war; testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate-we cannot consecrate-we cannot hallow-this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining here us-that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain-that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom- and that government of the people, by the people, for the poeple, shall not perish from the earth
Abraham Lincoln
redrock, a quiet and thankful bump to your father and to you. Thank you.
I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the Republic for which it stands
one nation under God, indivisible,
with liberty and justice for all.
Memorial Day bump.
A quiet reflective bump.
God Bless America!!! God Bless our VETS!!!
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter- silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds-
And done a hundred things you have not dreamed of-
Wheeled and soared and swung high into the sunlit silence.
Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting winds along and
Flung my eager craft through the footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent lifting mind
I've trod the untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
May God bless all Vets.
Link to: Memorial Day - Thread One [redrock]
Link to: Memorial Day - Thread Two [redrock]
Link to: Memorial Day - Thread Three [redrock]
Link to: Memorial Day - Thread Four [redrock]
Link to: Memorial Day - Thread Five [redrock]
Link to: Memorial Day - Thread Six [redrock]
Link to: Memorial Day, May 30, 1868 - Thread Seven [redrock]
Link to: A Tribute to Heroes [Neil E. Wright]
Thanks for the words to TAPS. I will save this article.
It all began in 1862, during the Civil War; when a Union Army Captain, Robert Ellicombe, was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of this narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field.
Not knowing if he was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered a Confederate soldier, whom was dead.
The captain lit a lantern. Suddenly, he caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier; it was his son! The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, he had enlisted into the Confederate Army.
The following morning, the heart-broken father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was partially granted. The captain had asked if he could have a group of army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. That request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the father, they did say he could have one musician. The captain chose a bugler.
He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his son's uniform. This wish was granted. That music was the haunting bugle melody we know as "TAPS", today, used at all military funerals.
Source: Encyclopedia of Amazing But True Facts.
RIGHT NOW!!
Hold the government ACCOUNTABLE!!!!
redrock
Just doing my part......for my friends.
redrock
Ref. post 41.
Nice. Haven't heard that before.
5.56mm
Bump. 5.56mm
Thank you. I return the bump. Mig --
Beautiful picture. God bless everyone on Free Republic! Mig --
Lincoln got it right on this one.
Politicians saying words do not hallow the ground....the blood shed Hallowed it.
redrock
BUMP.....
Those flags.......remind us of who we are.
redrock
bump
BUMP....for tommorrow....for our Brothers....on MEMORIAL DAY.
redrock
BUMP.....quietly and with reverence...for those who have fallen.
redrock
BUMP!!!
I've been told by some that I carry my "crusade" for vets and MEMORIAL DAY etc to "silly" heights. That I should spend my time arguing about Bush or Gore or whatever.
To them...NO...the entire fabric of our Society is BASED upon sacrifice for our beliefs,our family,our Country. Which is what these men,and women, have done.
THE starting point for taking back our Country...is to ackowledge the "glue" that binds us.
MEMORIAL DAY...a day to reflect on what binds us as a Country.
redrock
"Depend upon it, the lovers of freedom will be free."
-- Edmund Burke
"Freedom suppressed and again regained bites with keener fangs than freedom never endangered."
-- Cicero
"Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it."
-- Thomas Paine
"The ground of liberty must be gained by inches."
-- Thomas Jefferson
"We are not to expect to be transplanted from despotism to liberty in a featherbed."
-- Thomas Jefferson
"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserved neither liberty nor safety."
-- Benjamin Franklin
"Only free peoples can hold their purpose and their honor steady to a common end, and prefer the interest of mankind to any narrow interest of their own."
-- Woodrow Wilson in War Address to Congress on April 2, 1917
"All we have of freedom, all we use or know-this our fathers bought for us, long and long ago."
-- Rudyard Kipling
"The world has never had a good definition for the word liberty."
-- Abraham Lincoln
"All that makes existence valuable to anyone depends on the enforcement of restraints upon the actions of other people."
-- J.S. Mill
"Liberty exists in proportion to wholesome restraint; the more restraint on others to keep off from us, the more liberty we have."
-- Daniel Webster
"Communism is the corruption of a dream of justice."
-- Adlai Stevenson speech, Urbana, Illinois, 1951
"You can see things, and you say, 'Why?', but I see things that never were and I say, 'Why not?'
-- George Bernard Shaw
"It is an unfortunate fact that we can secure peace only by preparing for war."
-- John F. Kennedy
"The real democratic American idea is, not that every man shall be on a level with every other, but that every one shall have liberty, without hindrance, to be what God made him."
-- Henry Ward Beecher, "Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit" in 1887
"Freedom--no word was ever spoken, that has held out greater hope, demanded greater sacrifice, needed to be nurtured, blessed more the giver, damned more its destroyer or come closer to being God's will on earth. And I think that's worth fighting for, if necessary."
-- General Omar N. Bradley
"I believe that if we think clearly enough, plan carefully enough, and work tirelessly enough, we can both save freedom and secure peace."
-- Dwight D. Eisenhower
"We view our Nation's strength and security as a trust, upon which rests the hope of free men everywhere."
-- Dwight D. Eisenhower
"Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and success of liberty."
-- John F. Kennedy
"The only freedom which deserves the name is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it."
--John Stuart Mill
"These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; 'tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed, if so celestial an article as Freedom should not be highly rated."
-- Thomas Paine
"For those who fight for it, life has a special flavor the protected will never know."
-- Unknown defender of Khe Sanh in Vietnam
"Democracy is not a static thing. It is an everlasting march."
-- Franklin D. Roosevelt
"Patriotism is not a short frenzied outburst of emotion but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime."
-- Adlai Stevenson
"Democracy cannot lose in open competition with rival doctrines. It can lose only by default. It can lose through the fears of its people, through their failure to trust in it. The power of democracy is the power of uncensored knowledge, or unregimented minds, or resolute action based on a realistic understanding of a realistic world."
-- General Omar N. Bradley
"A thoughtful mind, when it sees a nation's flag, sees not the flag only, but the nation itself; and whatever may be its symbols, its insignia, he reads chiefly in the flag, the Government, the principles, the truths, (and) the history which belong to the nation that sets it forth."
-- Henry Ward Beecher, "The American Flag"
"Things that the flag stands for were created by the experiences of a great people. Everything that it stands for was written by their lives. The flag is the embodiment, not of sentiment, but of history. It represents the experiences made by men and women, the experiences of those who do and live under the flag."
-- Woodrow Wilson
"...the soldier above all other people prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war."
-- General Douglas MacArthur
"We seek peace, knowing--as all ages of man have known--that peace is the climate of freedom. And now, as in no other age, we seek it because we have been warned by the power of modern weapons that peace may be the only climate possible for human life itself." -- Dwight D. Eisenhower
"There never was a good war or a bad peace."
-- Benjamin Franklin
"If we desire peace, one of the most powerful institutions of our rising prosperity, it must be known that we are at all times ready for war."
-- George Washington
"Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty."
-- Thomas Jefferson
"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure."
-- Thomas Jefferson
And where is that band that so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the Land of the FRee and the Home of the Brave.
For ever more!
Thank You and may God Bless all who Serve.
"Put out my hand and touched the face of God."
AMEN.
redrock
Thank you for all the words to "Taps." I didn't know there were other verses.
At the Memorial Day ceremony in our little town, they read the names of all those who have died. It is a moving moment and a time to pause.
BTT
Out of the Spring of my life-
The blood of Summer, Autumn and Winter
poured out on the red ground of Viet-Nam -
My blood, my fine young Spring blood, poured
out to mingle with the red of the ground
near Pleiku.
The seasons of my life were very short-
In the space of a horrible instant I lived the
Summer, Fall and Winter of my life-
As my blood, my fine young Spring blood poured
out on the red of the ground near Pleiku.
As the seasons of my life poured out onto the
ground
The pain of missing caught me up: a girl to
marry, a child to love, grandchildren to play
with, all flashed by much too quickly-
As my blood, my fine yound Spring blood poured
out on the red of the ground near Pleiku.
Somewhere, someone hear my voice, and remember me,
And that I missed three full seasons of my life-
Live them for me, will you, those that hear and
care, live them as I would have lived them-
Because I am forever stilled,
My blood, my fine young Spring blood, poured
out to mingle with the red of the ground
near Pleiku.
Donald E. V. Walker
in memory of Dennis B. Kouhns
"I've been told by some"
.
And who are these people to tell you anything, redrock?
As you can tell.....I have ignored them.
And I will always ignore them........getting my country back is too important.
redrock
THAT is one hell of a poem!!!!
I served near and about and in and around Plieku for part of my time in that wonderful place...
I still think I have some of that red dirt in my body.
redrock
BUMP...back to you.....
redrock
btt
BUMP...for Them.
redrock
The price of freedom is never free, but paid for with the blood of our soldiers, sailors, and airmen. God bless them all; let us never forget the price they paid and continue to pay.
bump, from the USAF.
W.K.
BUMP......for Hallowed Ground.
redrock
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . .
that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . .
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . .
and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people shall not perish from this earth.
Speaking for a lot of vets, thanks for your efforts. Best Memorial Day ever on FR.
A family's price for WWII victory
Larry Oakes / Star Tribune
''Dear Brother . . . I'm well, and I can't say happy, unless it's to be alive, and I hope you are the same.'' -- Louis Glavan, France, 1944.
Albin Glavan died of a stroke in 1995. The night of his wake, relatives brought out his World War II medals. ''I realized I never really knew why he received the Bronze Star,'' said his son, Tony.
Tony Glavan decided it was wrong for him to be ignorant of such things, especially considering his family's extraordinary war record.
His father was one of six brothers drafted from a single family in the tiny northern Minnesota town of Kinney. Two of the brothers, Louis and Fred, were killed in battle. Tony, of Coon Rapids, knew little about how they died, and little of what his dad and three surviving uncles endured.
He has made it his mission to find out.
Today, on this holiday for remembering, Tony will tell the Glavan brothers' story in a speech at the Buhl-Kinney Memorial Day observance.
''I want to honor them, and tell people that you have to talk to the veterans before it's too late,'' he said. ''Because of those veterans, we are free, and we lead a pretty good life.''
Buried treasure
Since his digging began, Glavan (pronounced Gla-VON) has questioned his remaining uncles on videotape. He's sorted their wartime pictures. He's found elderly soldiers who knew the stories of how his uncles died.
Perhaps most significantly, he's collected 60 wartime letters the Glavan brothers wrote. The letters were saved by the eldest brother, Frank Jr.
"It was like finding buried treasure," Tony said.
"Hearing about Fred hit me pretty hard," Pvt. Ludwig (Lud) Glavan wrote from France in 1945. "I was sick the rest of the day and couldn't sleep that night. . . . I visited his grave today and prayed the best I could. It made me feel much better."
Earlier this spring, Lud Glavan, now 80, tried to read that letter he wrote so long ago. A retired iron-ore miner, usually reserved, he couldn't get past the first sentence without breaking into sobs that overpowered and silenced him.
Reading those words made it seem like 1945 again.
A war generation
The Glavan boys came from a family of eight children, seven boys and a girl. Their parents, Mary Virant and Frank Glavan Sr., immigrated separately from the same town in Slovenia to Minnesota's Iron Range.
Frank Glavan scratched out a living in the mines and as a school janitor in Kinney, where the family grew a large garden and raised pigs and chickens.
The boys played on the mine dumps, fished, shot game, went out for football. One brother, John, hopped a freight at age 17 to work in lumber camps in the northwestern United States.
By the time the United States entered World War II, four of the seven Glavan brothers were making their own way in the world. Albin was the first to be drafted, in 1941, when he was 25 and working in a steel mill in Gary, Ind.
Five more were drafted in quick succession. In 1943, Fred became the final Glavan brother to receive his notice, just after his 18th birthday. He was a high school junior.
The Glavan family was told that Fred, with five brothers already serving, was eligible for a deferment. But he felt compelled to follow his older brothers and friends into the service. On July 29, 1943, he wrote Frank Jr. his last letter from Kinney.
"I still got one more week at home. . . . I wish you could be home, but I suppose wishing never helps," he wrote. "Someday we will have a family reunion, and let's hope all are there and we will have one grand time."
Joining the fray
Mary and Frank Glavan put six stars in the front window of their house, and they waited for letters from their boys at bases throughout the United States.
The boys wrote about their respective "hell holes," the weather, girls and their grueling training. They shared news about Kinney boys who had "kicked off" in battle, and who was working what mine back home.
They congratulated Frank Jr. when he married Margaret, whom he'd met while stationed in California. Only Albin could make it home to Kinney for the wedding.
They playfully speculated on who might next fall prey to marriage, and they more seriously speculated on when a Glavan might be sent overseas. "The war will be over before I get across, and I'd like to get across at least," Louis wrote on Jan. 5, 1943, from Camp Wolters, Texas.
As it turned out, there was plenty of war left when Louis became the first Glavan across in March 1943. And, as months turned into years, he learned a fresh soldier must be careful for what he wishes.
"There is little to tell of my battle experiences that you wanted to hear about," he wrote Frank Jr., "except that for the guys who's first time it was in combat, it was bad, but the old veterans . . . well, they say we haven't seen anything yet. And I truthfully believe them, for we were the fifth replacements, and where did the guys before us [go]? All I know [is], they didn't go on sick call, and they don't give a man a discharge when he's over here. . .
.
"If you think that you would like to fight, your brains aren't where they should be."
When not discussing battles, Louis remarked on the beauty and poverty of North Africa, mused about how the Italians surrendered without disgrace, and critiqued English ale, French cognac and Sicilian women.
The last goodbye
As the war in Europe reached its climax, more Glavans were drawn in.
Ludwig, who had been guarding German prisoners in Georgia, was sent to do the same duty in France. John was sent to the European theater too, from a relatively quiet post in the Aleutian islands. In December 1944, the retreating Germans launched the counteroffensive that came to be called the Battle of the Bulge. Fred's 17th Airborne Division was brought to Belgium to reinforce the lines.
"I met Fred over here New Year's Eve," Ludwig wrote to Frank Jr. on Jan. 26, 1945. "I drank a little too much. He took care of me OK. . . . He didn't have much to say, except that he wanted to go into action. He had his wish. He was up a couple days later and I guess he's still there. Sure hope nothing happens to him."
During their brief time together, Lud slept in Fred's cot while Fred went on a patrol. The next day, Lud returned to his outfit. As the truck pulled away, Fred shouted something Lud couldn't hear. To this day Lud wishes he knew what it was.
By the time Ludwig had recounted New Year's Eve in his letter, Fred was already dead.
The telegram that arrived in Kinney said a German sniper shot Fred in the chest Jan. 7 and that he died 11 days later.
Not until this year, when Tony Glavan found and interviewed veterans of Fred's unit, did the Glavans learn what really happened.
Two veterans said Fred was the lead scout on a reconnaissance patrol that was fired upon near the village of Flamierge. Everyone went flat in the snow.
When they thought the danger had passed, they heard someone yell, "Hey, over here!" in perfect English. Fred stood up. By the time he realized the caller was German -- if he realized it -- he had been shot. He died on the spot. He was 19.
The rest of the patrol then charged and killed the 16 Germans who had fired on them.
Dreaded news
Mary Glavan went to pieces, older family members say.
Frank Jr.'s wife Margaret, who had gone to live with her in-laws in Kinney after Frank was sent to New Guinea, wrote to each brother and told them about Fred. She assured them she was doing her best to look after their parents, brother Bill and sister Julie.
From distant battlefields they wrote back.
"I never will be the same man, for there will always be a vacant space in my heart for him," Albin wrote from the Philippines, where he was commanding a tank. "Why did it have to be him? He was so young. He hardly knew what life was."
"The cemetery is situated on a hill near a small country village," Ludwig wrote from France. "It will be quite beautiful after a few trees and shrubs are planted. His grave is marked with his name on a white cross, which is placed over his head and placed in a row with his comrades."
Louis wrote to Margaret that "I'm worried about Mom. . . . She will take a longer time to recover, if she ever does." He thanked her for being a comfort to everyone and added: "If there was any doubt in my mind about you it's disappeared entirely. You are truly a sister to us now, and I hope you don't mind me calling you sis from now on."
A bad dream
The war allotted little time for grief as the Allies closed in on Germany.
Now in an artillery unit, Ludwig was part of the force tightening the noose, as were John and Louis, though each never knew where his brothers were -- or even, on any given day, if they were still alive.
Louis remained the cheerful correspondent.
"Dear Sis Marge," he wrote on March 7. "Today our morale is 100 percent because we just heard Cologne has fallen to the Ninth Army. We've been meeting large numbers of enemy civilians and, as yet, I don't know how to take them. At present I don't trust them, even though they do appear harmless and friendly.
"Well, once we get over the Rhine River, the war will come to a fast close. Say hello to Mom and Dad, Julie and Billy. Love, Your brother, Louis."
But then, everything froze just before it was going to be OK. On March 30, a German artillery shell landed next to Louis.
He'd fought for two years, cheating death at El Guettar and Omaha Beach, the Hurtgen Forest, the Bulge and other places now synonymous with death. Now, six weeks before Germany surrendered, death caught up with another Glavan.
Louis was 23.
Another telegram, another set of letters flew around the world like poison darts.
This time Frank Jr. was home, recovering from jungle rot he'd contracted while in the Signal Corps in New Guinea. The telegram was waiting at the Kinney post office when he went for the mail on April 12.
The day already had turned ominous with the announcement that President Franklin Roosevelt had died. The nation, and the Glavan home, was already in mourning. With a lump in his throat and dread in his heart, Frank Jr. opened the telegram.
Young Bill, the only Glavan son too young to fight, was in the yard as his brother, his face contorted, approached the house.
"Now who got it?" Bill asked.
As they read the telegram, someone in the family made a startling realization: Louis was killed on Fred's birthday.
While Tony Glavan was doing his research, Bill told him that Louis had been their father's favorite. The day Frank Sr. got the news of Louis' death was the last day he ever worked, Bill said.
Going home
After the German surrender, the Army notified John and Ludwig in Germany that a second brother had been killed, and that because of that, they would be sent home. But they weren't told which brother. John soon got that information in a letter from home, but the letter meant for Ludwig hadn't caught up with him.
John was in England, standing in line at a mess tent, when a man walked up and asked, "Are you John Glavan?"
"Hello, Lud," said John. The two hadn't seen each other since the day John hopped a freight out of Kinney, about 10 years before. Now John had to break the news that Louis was the second brother killed.
Feeling lucky to have found each other, and lucky to be alive, the brothers caught a military transport plane to the United States and arrived in Kinney together in late June.
"It's not hard to imagine the tears and laughter that rippled through that house -- and the cling of sorrow," the Buhl-Kinney Herald reported.
The information about Louis' death didn't arrive in the South Pacific in time to save Albin from further danger. On April 18, during a battle for the island of Ie Shima, Japanese soldiers tossed bombs under Albin's tank, disabling it and smashing his right heel. He and his men were fired upon as they climbed out, and one of his men was killed.
Albin reached a shell hole just as a Japanese mortar shell landed in it. He lived because it didn't explode, but the impact mangled his right hand.
The wounds marked the end of the war for Albin. He spent months recuperating in military hospitals.
"My hand is still a bit stiff and I find I have a hard time writing, especially with one of the fingers missing," he wrote from a hospital in Vancouver, Wash., in September 1945.
He finally made it home to Kinney in February 1946, four years and nine months after entering the service.
Epilogue
The four Glavans who survived World War II all stayed on the Iron Range. They worked for mining companies, or, in Albin's case, a railroad that served the mines.
With the exception of Albin, who passed away in 1995, they live there still. In October, Margaret and Frank Jr. celebrated their 55th wedding anniversary.
On Memorial Day 1959, Mary Glavan knelt beside the graves of her sons in Belgium and Luxembourg. "Memories of them live, and will live, to the end of our days," she told a European newspaper. "May they rest in peace in your land."
Frank Glavan Sr. died at age 83. Mary Glavan lived to be 101.
John remained a bachelor, but Albin and Ludwig, like Frank, married and raised families. Frank named his first son Louis. Albin named his first son Fred.
This past January, a man named Tom Brown called Frank from South Carolina. For a long time he had wanted to ask some questions about Fred.
He said his father, J.T. Brown, was in Fred's platoon in Belgium. He said J.T. was designated first scout, but froze his feet badly and was sent to a field hospital the morning of Jan. 7, 1945. Fred took his place, and lost his life.
Tom Brown told Frank he never forgot that story, or the name of the man who took his dad's place.
He carries a reminder: Since he was born, his family has called him by his middle name: Glavan.
-- Staff Writer Larry Oakes can be reached at 1-800-266-9648 or loakes@startribune.com
© Copyright 2000 Star Tribune. All rights reserved.
Beautiful picture!
Bttt.
5.56mm
I have fought a good
fight,
I
have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
--
Timothy 2:4:7
When he shall
die,
Take
him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so
fine
That
all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish
sun.
-- Scene 2, Romeo and
Juliet
William Shakespeare
Even in our
sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will, comes wisdom through
the awful grace of God.
Aeschylus.
Click on this logo to learn about "The
Virtual Wall."
http://www.arlingtoncemetery.com/
AMEN!!!
redrock
I am touched.
These are just regular people...who gave their all....and then some.
And that knowledge that someone else,from another family, has their Family name..to honour their brother....is amazing.
WE are all connected.
It is something we all need to remember......
redrock
Thank You.
redrock
These three paragraphs are clipped from Samuel Eliot Morison's History of the United States Navy in World War II. They are from the very lengthy description of what is now called the Naval Battle for Gaudalcanal (12 - 15 November, 1942) In this action a Japanese force of 14 ships ran into an American Naval group of 13 ships. The paragraphs deal with the American light cruiser Juneau.
Juneau, last cruiser in the column, fired along with the rest of that task force during the hectic quarter-hour between 0148 and 0203. In common with other ships, she had difficulty in identifying targets; Callaghans' Cease Firing order belayed a brief spraying of the Helena. An emeny torpedo sundered Juenau's forward fireroom with a shock which put the ship completely out of action, dead in the water and probably with a broken keel. From that moment her main concern was to clear out and keep afloat.
[At 1050, November 14] this taskforce touched the nadir of its fortune. Helena was steaming 1000 yards ahead of San Francisco; Juneau was 1000 yards on the latter's starboard beam. Submarine I-26, cruising at periscope depth, drew a bead and fired a spread of torpedoes. Two of them shot past San Francisco, but she, with no means of rapid communication left, could not broadcast the alarm. Straight and true, one emeny torpedo traveled toward Juneau, and at 1101 detonated against her port side under the bridge. Horrified sailors in San Francisco saw the light cruiser disintegrate instantaneously and completely, sinking with apparently no trace except a tall pillar of smoke and a little debris. Nobody waited to look for survivors. A Flying Fortress, attracted thither by the force of the explosion, was informed of the disaster and asked to relay a rescue request to Admiral Halsey's headquarters.
Unfortunately this message never got though. Of more than a hundred men who miraculously survived the eruption and who clung pitifully to the flotsam that marked their ships' end, all but ten perished. Three paddled their raft to a small island where frendly natives and a European trader brought them back to life, and a Catalina carried theme home. Another PBY rescued six, Ballard picking up the lone survivor of one raft on 20 November. Almost 700 men, including the five Sullivan brothers, went down with Juneau or died in life rafts.
Thank you and God Bless.
btt
A quiet gentle BUMP for our Friends...who have fallen.
redrock
This picture brought tears to my eyes. Thanks!
Mine too.
I remember when I was young the local TV station would play a video of a jet flying through the clouds while the poem High Flight was read.
Every night I could get by with it I would stay up late just to watch it.
I later found out that John Gillespie Magee, Jr. did not survive his tour.
I later learned through my mother the stories of all the men that my father flew with who also did not return from their tours.
I decided at an early age that all I wanted to do with my life was to make a career in the Air Force my dream. While flying was not in the cards, I have made that dream come true.
I have done my flying on the ground and as John Gillespie Magee, Jr. put it:
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod the untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
In the early morning hours, I watched the sun come up over the Adriatic, I have seen the sun set over the North sea. I have listened to the birds singing their songs among the white crosses and stars in many cemetaries across Europe.
All these things were given to me by the sacrifices of much better men than me. And for that I am grateful.
God bless the USA! God Bless our VETS!!!
"MEMORIAL DAY...a day to reflect on what binds us as a Country."
AMEN!!!
My Crusade will never be over until all Vets get the respect and recognition that they deserve, the Government honors all the promises that they made to the men and women they sent into battle in the name of freedom and democracy, and all Americans who were left behind are accounted for are brought home honorably.
Sometimes I feel like Don Quixote and the windmills are just too big but if enough like me decide tilting at windmills is not futile a change can happen.
The Wall in Berlin fell because a few individuals wanted change. A single student stood up in front of a tank in Tinnamen Square and for a time he made a difference.
We all need to stand up and make a difference. Change starts with one person. When one becomes many our voices are that much louder.
Thanks for hearing me out.
I will always listen....you always make sense.
To All Who Have Served...and To Those Who Man The Wall Now.
Thank You All!!
redrock
When I was a kid...I collected stamps...U.S. mostly.
The first stamp (actually a whole sheet) that My dad got for me was the one Honouring the Sullivan Brothers.
He always told me that they were " real Navy".
redrock
You spoke of collecting stamps. Did you know that the government is getting ready to destroy a whole series of stamps.
Here is a copy of the message that I received:
Stamps to be Destroyed Effective 30 June 2000, the postal service will destroy the stock of 32 cent POW stamps as well as the stock of some AF and aircraft anniversary stamps. If you would like to order any of this stock please call 1-800 STAMP24 (1-800-782-6724) or visit stamps on line(to order stamps).
If we are interested in collecting these stamps we ought to give the number a call before the stamps can be destroyed.
I'm not a Marine...so I am not qualified to say it the right way.....But I can say it this way.....
Always Faithful.......to those "Brothers" who have fallen..and what they gave up their life for.
redrock
He always told me that they were " real Navy".
In a real sense, there were two US Navies in WWII. One was the Navy as it was in pre-war days. The only wise thing to do with it was to leave it at Pearl. The battleships made only 17 knots, and the Japanese could out run it and out shoot it. The second Navy was the new and refitted ships of the rebuilding programs under FDR which started before the war but did not really have impact until 1943.
The second Navy had the radar, the fast ships, the modern guns. The first Navy had to go out against the Japs with lame torpedoes, inferior night vision, inferior numbers and planes. Even so, within 6 months the old Navy kicked in the teeth of the Japs at Midway, but the cost during the first year of the war was very dear.
Perhaps that is what was meant by the phrase 'real Navy'.
As Charles deGaulle said, the form of the next war is always determined the peace that proceeds it. Think about that as our tank divisions are taken out of service.
THE STORY BEHIND "TAPS" It all began 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention.
Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The Captain lit a lantern. Suddenly, he caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, he enlisted in the Confederate Army.
The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was partially granted. The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for the son at the funeral. That request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician.
The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his dead son's uniform. This wish was granted. This music was the haunting melody we now know as "TAPS" that is used at all military funerals.
I thought this was also appropriate tonight.
Enjoy..
Cas
Sorry for re-post..
Can never get enough
Cas
I remember when I was young the local TV station would play a video of a jet flying through the clouds while the poem High Flight was read.
They did the same on our local stations when I was a kid, Sarge! That poem is so reverent and spiritual. I can imagine myself flying through the kingdom of air and touching the face of God, it gets me every time. I'm sure it influenced me to later join the Air Force too. I wasn't a pilot but it was great to work on those birds (F-4 Wild Weasels and F-15 fighters). I would love to see that video again, I wonder why the Air Force doesn't use it for recruiting anymore? I believe in Jesus so I still think that someday I will "put out my hand and touch the face of God!" Thanks for your service to America SSgt Mike and God bless all Vets everywhere!
BUMP.....Thank You All.....for the stories and the poems and the pictures.
I know that you went out...and told those that THIS Day is for...Thank You.
As it should be.
redrock
Better late than never bump
Thanks for the bumps and post
Thanks......
redrock
Thanks for the heads-up, redrock. And sorry for the delayed response (been off-line for a couple of days).
I attended the Memorial Day dawn service which was held at our local town park. I have attended the service almost every year for the past twenty years, and each year the attendance dwindles a bit more. So sad. And, without fail, each year when taps is played I get that same grateful beyond measure lump in my throat.
You are right, too: taps is a beautiful bugle call. Not at all musically intricate, but beautiful in its simplicity and tenderness.
Thanks so much for posting this.
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