Time to Remember
and Time to Pray
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"EARN THIS"
by Dick Feagler of the Cleveland Plain Dealer
"In a battlefield cemetery each marble cross marks an individual crucifixion. Someone - someone very young usually - has died for somebody else's sins. The movie "Saving Private Ryan" begins and ends in the military cemetery above Omaha Beach. By sundown of D-Day, 40,000 Americans had landed on that beach, and one in 19 had become a casualty.
Director Steven Spielberg made "Saving Private Ryan" as a tribute to D-day veterans. He wanted, reviewers say, to strip the glory away from war and show the '90s generation what it was really like. The reviews have praised the first 30 minutes of the film and the special effects that graphically show the blood and horror of the D-Day landing.
Unfortunately, American movie audiences have become jaded connoisseurs of special effects gore. In the hands of the entertainment industry, violence has become just another pandering trick. But Spielberg wasn't pandering. Shocked by and wary of his depiction, I bought a copy of Steven Ambrose's book "D-Day." The story of the Normandy invasion is a story of unimaginable slaughter. Worse than I ever knew, and I thought I knew something about it. The young men who lived through those first waves are old men now. Many have asked themselves, every day for more than 50 years, why they survived. It is an unanswerable question. The air was full of buzzing death. When the ramps opened on many of the landing craft, all the men aboard were riddled with machine gun bullets before they could step into the water.
Beyond this cauldron of cordite and carnage, half a world away, lay an America united in purpose like no citizen under 60 has ever seen. The war touched everyone. The entire starting lineup of the 1941 Yankees was in military uniform. Almost every family could hang a service flag in the window, with a Star embroidered on it for each son in uniform, a Gold Star for those who had made the ultimate sacrifice. In the early hours of D-Day, with the outcome of the battle still in the balance, the nation prayed.
Ambrose tells us that the New York Daily News threw out its lead stories and printed in their place the Lord's Prayer. "I fought that war as a child," a historian on television said the other night. I knew what he meant. So did I. We all saved fat and flattened cans and grew victory gardens.
But we did not all go to Omaha Beach. Or Saipan. Or Anzio. Only an anointed few did that. The men of World War II are beginning to leave us now. In my family, six have gone and two are left. We have lost the uncle who was on Okinawa, the cousin who worked his way up the gauntlet of Italy and the cousin who brought the German helmet back from North Africa. These men left us with a simple request. You can hear that request in final minutes of "Saving Private Ryan." I haven't read a review that has mentioned it, but it is what makes Spielberg's movie a masterpiece.
In the film, a squad of rangers is sent behind enemy lines to save a young 101st Airborne Paratrooper whose three brothers have been killed in battle. Headquarters wants him shipped home to spare his mother the agony of having all her sons killed in combat. So eight rangers risk their lives for one man. And when Captain Miller, the Ranger Commander is mortally wounded, he asks Pvt. Ryan to bend over so he can whisper to him. "Earn this," he says. And that is the request of all the young men who have died in all the wars - from Normandy to the Chosin Reservoir to Da Nang to the Gulf. "Earn this."
When the movie ended, the theater was silent except for some muffled sobs.
But the tears that scalded my eyes were not just for the men who had died on the screen and in truth. Or for the men who had lived and grown old and were baffled about why they had been spared.
I walked out into the world of Howard Stern, Jerry Springer and "South Park." Into the world of front-page coverage of Monica Lewinski and the stain on her dress from Oval Office semen.
"Earn this," was still ringing in my ears.
And the tears in my eyes were tears of betrayal."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It's 8 days to MEMORIAL DAY.........
It is NOT about a 3 day weekend.....
It is NOT about a "mini-vacation".......
It is NOT about how much beer or barbecue you can consume....
It IS about those who have given their all....for their family...for their Country...for US.
We have 8 days...to think about the GIFT of Freedom we have been Given...and to re-dedicate ourselves.
EARN THIS!!!
redrock
Thing's haven't changed all that much....
Farmer's are still being driven off of their land (some of which was given to VETERANS after WWII).....
The 'Bill of Rights' is still being abused...by those who have sworn an oath to defend it.
The one small request...requested by those countless men and women who put their lives on the line...from the Revolutionary War to Desert Storm...that one small request is still with us...and has yet to be fulfilled.
EARN THIS!!!!
redrock
It's time......
redrock
It's time.....
redrock
It's time.....
redrock
Great wakeup call. Thanks, Redrock.
FReegards,
BUMP....you know why...
redrock
BUMP....for reasons you know...
redrock
It's time.....
redrock
Bump for my father-in-law and all others to whom I owe my life.
BUMP...for all the right reasons....
redrock
BUMP.....ya know why..
redrock
Thank You for your service to the Nation...
And Thank You for this 'soap-box'.......known as 'Free Republic'.
redrock
Thanks for the heads-up!
And for anybody within driving distance of Columbia, MO...you might want to check out
their annual "Salute To Veterans Airshow" on May 26 and 27.
They've got the USAF Thunderbirds this year...plus there will be the usual assortment of
military aviation displays, from two P-51D Mustangs, an A-10 Thunderbolt, to name a few.
Details at www.salute.org.
BUMP...it's time...
redrock
Although I will be standing tall in uniform next weekend at parades and ceremonies, I never forget that others can't be standing with me, and why. It's something I don't always truly appreciate, and it humbles me beyond words.
Semper Fi
"It's time........."
and Time to Pray
When the movie ended, the theater was silent except for some muffled sobs.
I saw it on a matinee at a theater near UCLA. I wasn't quit prepared for actual
open tears from a few of our Los Angeles sophisticates attending the show.
Thanks. Freedom isn't free- it's bought with blood....
BUMP.....
redrock
And that is the request of all the young men who have died in all the wars -
from Normandy to the Chosin Reservoir to
Da Nang to the Gulf.
Here's to the Army sergeant who lived next door to us when I was a kid.
My father told me that the sarge had been lived through the Chosin experience...didn't appreciate
it until I saw some coverage of it on television.
Just another thing they don't teach you in (even good) schools.
It's time......
redrock
It's time.....
redrock
BUMP.....
redrock
BUMP....for the simplest of reasons....
redrock
My father, who I was named after, was the middle of three sons raised by his mother, a divorcee, on the Pamlico River in Wahington, North Carolina. His older brother died of an infection in the early thirties. Later, in 1940 my father left his college studies at Carolina and joined the Navy. He was serving as an Ensign on the USS Phoenix in Pearl Harbour when the Japs paid a visit on Sunday morning, December 7, 1941. He told me it took 30 minutes to get the steam up before they get away. They were taking and responding to fire the entire time. Fortunately, the Japs were concetrating on the Battlewagons and the crusiers were left pretty much alone. His younger brother who was at the Citadel, joined the US Army Air Corps and piloted an Eigth Air Force B-17 from England for bombing runs to the continent. When he was shot down and killed over France in April of 1944, my grandmother was notified that she lost one son and that the other was still at war in the Pacific. There was no such thing as "Prvate Ryan" back then. Sentiment, yes. But a job had to be done and it took a priority that few of us can imagine.
BUMP....
redrock
"It's time...EARN THIS!!!!"
Amen, Brother, Amen!!
Molon Labe!!
I just saw this
.... and I will be back to respond....
You honor me, redrock ....
tomorrow ~~~~
Thank you, sir ....
C.M.B BUMP...
Thank you. Most poignant especially now when so many are going back to sleep, thinking that things are just fine now. It's time to take our country back.
Thanks Redrock. For once I am speechless.
Thank you. Memorial Day is very quiet in our family.
I still remember last years threads and increased our money to the Vets (that sounds so shallow).
Thank you, Redrock for the inspiring posts that this will generate. I will bookmark them all and read them with deep appreciation and awe.
God bless America and the ones that keep her free and the ones that paid a price that will never be recognized.
LOL....
redrock
The Threads that I start for Memorial Day...are probably the most important ones that I do.... to me.
It gives me a chance to Remember and Remind.......and to touch base with that part of each of us that realizes that we OWE so many men and women...so much.
redrock
"TOO MANY BRAVE SOULS:
THE MILITARY ACADEMY CEMETERY REWARDS THE WANDERING IRONIST"
BY JAMIE MALANOWSKI /WEST POINT, N.Y.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walk through the graveyard; cemeteries reward the ironist. The collision between what once was and what is no more, the ineffability of a last impression, the follow-up question that can never be answered--it's all right there. In the cemetery at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, Veterans Day will pass without formal observation; if the weather holds, the 6,827 men, women and children interred there will spend the day under a cerulean sky and pompon trees, and the living around them will give them the merest thought.
Cemeteries reward the ironist.
Start in a bit from the entrance. There is a stone marking the plot of a Colonel Buchwald. It is large but not enormous, and Buchwald probably served his country well. The site would blend unnoticed if his neighbor to the left, lying under a small government-issue marker, wasn't Norman Cota, the general who on D-day rallied the scattered American invasion force on Omaha Beach and pushed it past the German defenses; Robert Mitchum played him in The Longest Day. A hundred yards away, under a similarly modest headstone, rests Alonzo H. Cushing, who commanded the federal battery at Gettysburg that stood at the very point Pickett aimed his charge. Cushing, twice wounded, stayed at his guns, firing double canister at the converging Confederates until a third shot got him. Right behind him is buried Judson Kilpatrick, a general considered so profligate with the lives of his men that they called him "Kill Cavalry." At the end of the row, under an obelisk, lies George Armstrong Custer. Or what may be Custer. When Custer was disinterred a year after the Battle of the Little Bighorn, diggers found that animals had scattered the bones. They took their best guess.
Cemeteries reward the ironist.
There are heroes here: Paul Bunker, the only Army player to make Walter Camp's All-America team at two different positions, who died in a Japanese pow camp after smuggling his unit's flag past his captors; Ed White, who walked in space and died in Apollo 1; Joe Stilwell of China; Lucius Clay of the Berlin airlift; George Goethals of the Panama Canal. The biggest monument, however, a large pyramid, belongs to a general named Egbert Viele. An eminent engineer, he helped design the cemetery, which perhaps explains his prominence. The entrance to the pyramid is guarded by a pair of sphinxes. These are not the original sphinxes, which Mrs. Viele found too buxom, and which were then sunk in the Hudson River.
Cemeteries reward the ironist.
Walk around. Walter Schulze was assigned to fly the news that the Great War was over to units east of the Rhine; on the way home, his plane crashed and he was killed. Art Bonifas, near the end of his tour, took a group out one day in 1976 to prune a poplar in the DMZ; the North Koreans set upon them and killed him. In Vietnam, Ron Zinn, twice an Olympic race walker, went out on patrol ahead of his unit and stepped on a mine. Bob Fuellhart was advising a Vietnamese battalion; while word was being sent up from the rear that his daughter had just been born, word was being sent back that he had been killed.
Cemeteries reward the ironist.
"I got interested in this place," says Lieut. Colonel Conrad Crane, a member of West Point's history department, "when I asked the cadets in my class why they were here. Some said free education or to get a job on Wall Street. I wanted to show them what being a West Pointer is all about." He shows them a graveyard full of the young, dating from the first man buried here in 1782.
Walk along the western edge, and you find the dead of World War II, many of whom perished young. Charles Finley of the class of 1943, killed in Normandy in 1944. Henry Benitez of the class of '42, killed at Falaise in '44. Turner Chambliss Jr., '43, killed June 6, 1944. And so on, until you turn a corner and start finding George Tow and Samuel Coursen of the class of '49, killed in action in Korea, 1950. Over behind the Viele monument are the graves from Vietnam. There is a row in which 10 of 11 graves are occupied by members of the class of '66, and that does not begin to encompass that class's contribution. When that run ends, you have five in a row from the class of '64. One belongs to John Hottell III--a Rhodes scholar, twice a recipient of the Silver Star--who was killed in 1970. The year before, he had written his own obituary and sent it in a sealed envelope to his wife. "I deny that I died for anything--not my country, not my Army, not my fellow man," he wrote. "I lived for these things, and the manner in which I chose to do it involved the very real chance that I would die...my love for West Point and the Army was great enough...for me to accept this possibility as part of a price which must be paid for things of great value."
Walk through the graveyard; cemeteries humble the ironist.
===============
redrock
Interesting story about the movie Saving Private Ryan. My younger sister just came back from ROTC at the University of Oaklahoma. She and I purchased the DVD the other day, and after we watched it, there were tears in her eyes as the film finished. I thought the "earn this..." scene was touching, but to her in the military culture, it was even more so.
(AP Note: Although I understand the last part of the last sentence, I do not agree.)
NEVER FORGET
.."EARN THIS" = 3rd Panel of the Vietnam Wall =
..The Valley of Death that was IA DRANG-1965
Signed:..Vet-Battle of IA DRANG-1965 www.lzxray.com ~MEL GIBSON's new 'Braveheart-Patriot' Motion Picture ...4-FREEDOM
NEVER FORGET
"I deny that I died for anything--not my country, not my Army, not my fellow man,"...
"I lived for these things, and the manner in which I chose to do it involved
the very real chance that I would die...my love for West Point and the Army was
great enough... for me to accept this possibility as part of a price which must be
paid for things of great value."
---John Hottell III, West Point Class of 1964
This should be at the entrance of every military cemetary (just my opinion as a
grateful civilian).
And it shouldn't be said that had Hottell survived he would have become a great writer.
This passage alone should guarantee him some measure of immortality.
(AP Note: Although I understand the last part of the last sentence, I do not agree.)
I agree with the sentiment.
Seeing how the US Supreme Court says that burning of the flag is "political speech"...
I think that opening up a can of "whoop@ss" on some flag burner should be viewed as
"political speech", not a criminal assault.
It is a great reminder that we can do bloody rhetorical “battle” on individual issues but that is all it is. It makes me feel small in comparison to the literal battles these brave men paid the ultimate price for.
I understand your sentiment. ; )
I think that opening up a can of "whoop@ss" on some flag burner should be viewed as
"political speech", not a criminal assault.
Just a short editorial note:
I'm not advocating or condoning violence of any sort.
But rest assured that if somebody ever gets hauled to trial for having done a prime
"@ss-whippin'" on some flag-burning protestor in the Los Angeles area...there is at least
the possibility that someone in the jury box will never vote to convict you.
OK, enough "extremist" talk...back to honoring the departed and their sacrifice.
Thank You!
Fight against enemies of this country --- both foreign and DOMESTIC!
Redrock, thanks for the invitation to be moved by this posting. Memorial Day means so much more than a three day week-end. It is a time to reflect on all those that have passed before us and the legacies that our forefathers have left. Let me share with you one of my favorites things that I haven't posted since last Memorial Day.
As a schoolboy, one of Red Skelton's teachers
explained the words and meaning of the Pledge of Allegiance to his class. Red
Skelton later wrote down, and eventually recorded, his recollection of this
lecture. It is followed by an observation of his own.
I - - Me; an individual; a committee of one.
Pledge - - Dedicate all of my worldly goods to give without self-pity.
Allegiance - - My love and my devotion.
To the Flag - - Our standard; Old Glory; a symbol of Freedom; wherever she waves there is respect, because your loyalty has given her a dignity that shouts, Freedom is everybody's job.
United - - That means that we have all come together.
States - - Individual communities that have united into forty-eight great states. Forty-eight individual communities with pride and dignity and purpose. All divided with imaginary boundaries, yet united to a common purpose, and that is love for country.
And to the Republic - - Republic - a state in which sovereign power is invested in representatives chosen by the people to govern. And government is the people; and it's from the people to the leaders, not from the leaders to the people.
For which it stands
One Nation - - One Nation - meaning, so blessed by God.
Indivisible - - Incapable of being divided.
With Liberty - - Which is Freedom; the right of power to live one's own life, without threats, fear, or some sort of retaliation.
And Justice - - The principle, or qualities, of dealing fairly with others.
For All - - For All - which means, boys and girls, it's as much your country as it is mine.
And now, boys and girls, let me hear you recite the Pledge
of Allegiance:
I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the
Republic, for which it stands; one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice
for all.
Since I was a small boy, two states have been added to our country, and
two words have been added to the Pledge of Allegiance: Under God. Wouldn't it be
a pity if someone said that is a prayer, and that would be eliminated from
schools, too?
Red Skelton
What a truly great man was Red Skelton. I hope that you enjoy this as much as I do.
A worthy post, redrock. I'll be back to comment tomorrow.
T A P S
Lyrics 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."
THE STORY OF TAPS
It all began in 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 of 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 found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted.
This music was the haunting melody we now know as "Taps" used at all military funerals. First played for its composer.
*********************************************************
TAPS wav file ...go down the list there and click on the 'wav' link.
bump
A speech by President Reagan...
Remarks at Memorial Day Ceremonies at Arlington National Cemetery
May 31, 1982
Mr. President, General, the distinguished guests here with us today, my fellow citizens:
In America's cities and towns today, flags will be placed on graves in cemeteries; public officials will speak of the sacrifice and the valor of those whose memory we honor.
In 1863, when he dedicated a small cemetery in Pennsylvania marking a terrible collision between the armies of North and South, Abraham Lincoln noted the swift obscurity of such speeches. Well, we know now that Lincoln was wrong about that particular occasion. His remarks commemorating those who gave their ``last full measure of devotion'' were long remembered. But since that moment at Gettysburg, few other such addresses have become part of our national heritage -- not because of the inadequacy of the speakers, but because of the inadequacy of words.
I have no illusions about what little I can add now to the silent testimony of those who gave their lives willingly for their country. Words are even more feeble on this Memorial Day, for the sight before us is that of a strong and good nation that stands in silence and remembers those who were loved and who, in return, loved their countrymen enough to die for them.
Yet, we must try to honor them -- not for their sakes alone, but for our own. And if words cannot repay the debt we owe these men, surely with our actions we must strive to keep faith with them and with the vision that led them to battle and to final sacrifice.
Our first obligation to them and ourselves is plain enough: The United States and the freedom for which it stands, the freedom for which they died, must endure and prosper. Their lives remind us that freedom is not bought cheaply. It has a cost; it imposes a burden. And just as they whom we commemorate were willing to sacrifice, so too must we -- in a less final, less heroic way -- be willing to give of ourselves.
It is this, beyond the controversy and the congressional debate, beyond the blizzard of budget numbers and the complexity of modern weapons systems, that motivates us in our search for security and peace. War will not come again, other young men will not have to die, if we will speak honestly of the dangers that confront us and remain strong enough to meet those dangers.
It's not just strength or courage that we need, but understanding and a measure of wisdom as well. We must understand enough about our world to see the value of our alliances. We must be wise enough about ourselves to listen to our allies, to work with them, to build and strengthen the bonds between us.
Our understanding must also extend to potential adversaries. We must strive to speak of them not belligerently, but firmly and frankly. And that's why we must never fail to note, as frequently as necessary, the wide gulf between our codes of morality. And that's why we must never hesitate to acknowledge the irrefutable difference between our view of man as master of the state and their view of man as servant of the state. Nor must we ever underestimate the seriousness of their aspirations to global expansion. The risk is the very freedom that has been so dearly won.
It is this honesty of mind that can open paths to peace, that can lead to fruitful negotiation, that can build a foundation upon which treaties between our nations can stand and last -- treaties that can someday bring about a reduction in the terrible arms of destruction, arms that threaten us with war even more terrible than those that have taken the lives of the Americans we honor today.
In the quest for peace, the United States has proposed to the Soviet Union that we reduce the threat of nuclear weapons by negotiating a stable balance at far lower levels of strategic forces. This is a fitting occasion to announce that START, as we call it, strategic arms reductions, that the negotiations between our country and the Soviet Union will begin on the 29th of June.
As for existing strategic arms agreements, we will refrain from actions which undercut them so long as the Soviet Union shows equal restraint. With good will and dedication on both sides, I pray that we will achieve a safer world.
Our goal is peace. We can gain that peace by strengthening our alliances, by speaking candidly of the dangers before us, by assuring potential adversaries of our seriousness, by actively pursuing every chance of honest and fruitful negotiation.
It is with these goals in mind that I will depart Wednesday for Europe, and it's altogether fitting that we have this moment to reflect on the price of freedom and those who have so willingly paid it. For however important the matters of state before us this next week, they must not disturb the solemnity of this occasion. Nor must they dilute our sense of reverence and the silent gratitude we hold for those who are buried here.
The willingness of some to give their lives so that others might live never fails to evoke in us a sense of wonder and mystery. One gets that feeling here on this hallowed ground, and I have known that same poignant feeling as I looked out across the rows of white crosses and Stars of David in Europe, in the Philippines, and the military cemeteries here in our own land. Each one marks the resting place of an American hero and, in my lifetime, the heroes of World War I, the Doughboys, the GI's of World War II or Korea or Vietnam. They span several generations of young Americans, all different and yet all alike, like the markers above their resting places, all alike in a truly meaningful way.
Winston Churchill said of those he knew in World War II they seemed to be the only young men who could laugh and fight at the same time. A great general in that war called them our secret weapon, ``just the best darn kids in the world.'' Each died for a cause he considered more important than his own life. Well, they didn't volunteer to die; they volunteered to defend values for which men have always been willing to die if need be, the values which make up what we call civilization. And how they must have wished, in all the ugliness that war brings, that no other generation of young men to follow would have to undergo that same experience.
As we honor their memory today, let us pledge that their lives, their sacrifices, their valor shall be justified and remembered for as long as God gives life to this nation. And let us also pledge to do our utmost to carry out what must have been their wish: that no other generation of young men will every have to share their experiences and repeat their sacrifice.
Earlier today, with the music that we have heard and that of our National Anthem -- I can't claim to know the words of all the national anthems in the world, but I don't know of any other that ends with a question and a challenge as ours does: Does that flag still wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? That is what we must all ask.
Thank you.
Note: The President spoke at 11:35 a.m. at the cemetery in Arlington, Va. Prior to his remarks, he placed a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers.
Perfect!!!!!!!!
redrock
There are times when I get tired of politics, and the minor differences between us all.....and then I go HERE ...and talk to old friends...who never made it home except in a bag.
Puts a 'real' perspective on things....
redrock
Immaculate!!!!
Red Skelton was a good man....wish we had more like him.
redrock
Another C.M.B. BUMP!!!
redrock
Thank you so very much for the speech!!! Hugs!
RESPECT
Earn This!
Those who have served, have, all in their own way.
Each and every Soldier, Sailor, Airman and Marine that I serve with and has served before me has my respect.
Volunteer or Draftee, I don't care.
I want each and every one to know that I thank you for giving me the most precious and unselfish gift of all.
I would post a graphic now but Yahoo won't let me : (
Thanks for the Bump.
BTW, Happy Armed Forces Day a little late.
Saturday the 19th passed without a single reference to Armed Forces day in my community. I will be damned if I let the same happen on Memorial Day.
I've a couple more things from the web site I used to have up that I'd likle to contribute.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The Larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be Yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
-- John McCrae, 1872-1918
He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he had fought in
And the deeds that he had done.
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.
And tho' sometimes to his neighbors,
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened,
For they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer,
For a Soldier died today.
He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
Quietly going on his way;
And the world won't note his passing;
tho' a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories,
From the time that they were young,
But the passing of a Soldier,
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution,
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise,
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow,
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are sometimes disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offers up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.
It's so easy to forget them,
For it is so long ago,
That our Bob's and Jim's and Johnny's,
Went to battle, but we know.
It was not the politicians,
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom,
That our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier,
Who has sworn to defend,
His home, his kin, and country,
And will fight until the end?
He was just a common Soldier
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us,
We may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
Then we find the Soldier's part,
Is to clean up all the troubles,
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor,
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage,
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps a simple headline,
in the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
FOR A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."
Author unknown
The preceeding poem was read by Congressional Medal of Honor recipient, Vernon J. Baker, at the 1999 Veterans Day program, held at the VA Medical Center in Spokane, WA.
Rudyard Kipling, Tommy
|
|
Rudyard Kipling
Tommy
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the
tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you
sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards
too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble
in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in
the wind.
You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires,
an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees!
[
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Private Reply | To 59 | Top | Last ]
There are no words to express the gratitude to those who serve. Thoughts and prayers for those who went before and those yet to come.
"Those who have long enjoyed such privileges as we enjoy forget in time that men have died to win them." - FDR
"Unfortunately, American movie audiences have become jaded connoisseurs of special effects gore. "
Sad but true, they'er looking for Pulp Fiction, Natural Born Killer's or Good Fella's to pop up, like a VH-1 pop-up videos.
Reality just isn't there.
Kipling UNDERSTOOD!!!
redrock
Link to MEMORIAL DAY 2001-Thread 2--"The Soldier's Faith" is HERE
Thanks
redrock
Memorial Day 2001 will be spent as most are marching in the town's parade and doing the salutes at the cemetaries.
Stay well - Yorktown
But the tears that scalded my eyes were not just for the men who had died on the screen and in truth. Or for the men who had lived and grown old and were baffled about why they had been spared.
I walked out into the world of Howard Stern, Jerry Springer and "South Park." Into the world of front-page coverage of Monica Lewinski and the stain on her dress from Oval Office semen.
"Earn this," was still ringing in my ears.
And the tears in my eyes were tears of betrayal."
Great post redrock, thanks.
From "The Bivouac of The Dead"
Your own proud lands heroic soil
Must be your fitter grave
She claims from war his richest spoil
The ashes of the brave
I always stop to read this bit of the poem
when I walk across the National Cemetary in Los Angeles.
I like some others feel like we carried the torch passed from those who went before...
We in turn pass it to the next generation...and they dropped it.
We will pick it up in accordance to our oath, but only to provide an example on how warriors, no matter how old, will sacrifice and die for the cause of freedom. When we again go into the breech, do not tarry for our time is short, and our flame although hot, is now very limited.
We will raise the standard, but you must hold it in place. Our time of grace will soon be ended, heed well the example for it will be our last to you....
Young America will soon be called by the same voice that called our forefathers, do not turn a deaf ear to the call for too many have died allowing you to hear the sound of freedom.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap
Kipling could have written about the 1990's, couldn't he.
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
_____________________________________________________________________
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
____________________________________________________________________________
You may talk o' gin and beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,
An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.
BUMP.....
redrock
BUMP....it almost "Memorial Day".....
redrock
There is no doubt that Kipling was a master at recogonizing and exposing "universal truths". Sadly,these things are as true today as they were in his time. Nobody really gives a damn. Never have,never will.
As is my custom, I will spend Memorial Day remembering my uncle who died in the Normandy invasion on D-Day, and thinking about my father who, as a scared 18 year old, was on a ship headed toward Japan for the amphibious invasion when the second bomb was dropped. He had just accepted the fact that he would probably suffer the same fate as his revered older brother. I will remember countless others, whose names I don't even know, who have met the test and protected the freedoms which we all enjoy, the deserving and undeserving alike. When the next challenge comes, will we prove worthy? I wonder. I hope that I would conduct myself as well as these brave men (and women) did.
Remembering Their All
by Colleen Reddaway Cook [Copyright, May 1997]
Many have walked a path, a jagged road
Leading to tears of peace entwined with fears.
These times were not their chosen ways,
But soldiers took their stand.
The breezes of war, kiss their brow
Made the young old before their time
...and others ageless from the sound of reapers in the field.
They lived in a time of unfamiliar boundaries
Life made up of loyalty to our country and forced survival.
Preserving independence, rights and liberties
Freedom redeemed at countless costs
Common men and women performing uncommon acts of valor
Leaving behind all they have ever known
...Family, friends, jobs and mother-land.
Masses went, to fight upon foreign soils
Their faces have been forgotten,
But the wounds, the pains and the cries remain.
Tired eyes mourning from within, looking out at
Blood covered promises and sorrow worn victories.
Searching for, yet not wanting to find,
...Buddies that have fallen, the victims of war
Pride in serving, the pain in remembering
Colors of the crimson soaked sod and blurred visions of the mind.
How thankful we should be, we should sing the tune of memories
Of forgotten heros standing at past history's door
They went and came home, many returned in part...
Let us remember those who returned in lifeless form
...and never stop looking for those labeled M.I.A. and P.O.W.
Memorial Day, a time to pay tribute for the ultimate sacrifice.
Celebrate with your picnics, beach outings and reunions,
But teach your children about the sacrifices made,
Pride in the United States and the courage of the past.
Men and women, no matter how large or small the part,
Left their all behind, footprints of war imprinted in the annals of time.
Let us give them bitter-sweet honor of a hero-respect
...and a heartrending thanks.
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.
I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin>br>
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.
This is one of my favorites.
Here is another good site--also has a poetry section.
Memorial Day Resource Guide
BTTT...MUD
"But teach your children about the sacrifices made,"
The KEY to our Future as a Nation.....
redrock
"It's time to take our country back."
We're gettin' our agents into place, slowly but surely, and the Right shall retake control. The Left is desperate to retain their power, but they are weak, unlikeable, and distrusted by the Sheeple.
FReegards...MUD
BUMP....backatcha...
redrock
BUMP.....
redrock
"For those who've never been there, no explanation is possible. For those who have, no explanation is needed."
Stay Safe and remember.........
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
"No greater love hath a man..."
A soldiers death Bury me with soldiers I've played a lot of roles in life; I've met a lot of men, I've done a lot of things I'd like to think I wouldn't do again. And though I'm young, I'm old enough To know someday I'll die. And to think about what lies beyond, Beside whom I would lie. Perhaps it doesn't matter much; Still if I had my choice, I'd want a grave 'mongst Soldiers when At last death quells my voice. I'm sick of the hypocrisy Of lectures of the wise. I'll take the man, with all the flaws, Who goes, though scared, and dies. The troops I knew were commonplace They didn't want the war; They fought because their fathers and Their fathers had before. They cursed and killed and wept... God knows They're easy to deride... But bury me with men like these; They faced the guns and died. It's funny when you think of it, The way we got along. We'd come from different worlds To live in one where no one belongs, I didn't even like them all; I'm sure they'd all agree. Yet I would give my life for them, I know some did for me.. So bury me with soldiers, please, Though much maligned they be. Yes, bury me with soldiers, for I miss their company. We'll not soon see their likes again; We've had our fill of war. But bury me with men like them Till someone else does more.
Great post redrock. Thank you. And to everyone who served in uniform, I say thank you.
My wife and I have tried to teach our two children the true meaning of Memorial Day. I have wondered in the past if our teachings were “sinking in”. My questions were answered last week when I found the following poem on my computer. It was written by my 8 year old daughter during one of her writing sessions at the PC. I post it here today to say that our children are not a lost generation. As we honor those who paid the ultimate price for us all, know that there is hope for the future. They gave their lives to ensure that.
On Memorial Day we remember the ones
Who fought in the war with cannons and guns
And the ones who lived that were in the war
Could not ask for anything more
But their loved ones, their friends, who had to die
We stand at their graves and start to cry
To remember the people that died in the past
We hold flags and parades to make their souls last.
We give thanks to the ones who gave us freedom in the U.S.A
So thank you for celebrating Memorial Day.
My dad's flag, which my mother received at his military burial will fly proudly all weekend long. It amazes me that more Americans don't remember to fly American flags on national holidays, (i.e. Memorial Day, 4th of July, Veterans Day). Are they just too busy or just don't give a damn?
Nice thread and thanks for the reminder to pay respects to all our servicemen and women.
FReegards.
redrock - your work is wonderful. Thanks for the virtualwall, that was definitely bookmarked.
BUMPMARK.
The Virtual Wall is a great place to go....and visit with old friends.
redrock
Your a good person Redrock.
Thanks for your help @ FREE AMERICAN VET, TED MAHER, NOW MONACO
(Sorry about the blatant plug but Ted earned it)
PS, This is an awesome thread! Time to get my colors out for this weekend!
You can 'plug' your thread on any of my posts.
He did earn it...and deserves to be home.
redrock
p.s....I'll BUMP ya to the other threads...
That is beautiful!!!!!
Thank You for posting it....
redrock
"Are they just too busy or just don't give a damn?"
A little of both...but I will be flying the Flag on Memorial Day.....and will be reminding EVERYONE about the REASON for Memorial Day.
redrock
Belated bump.
5.56mm
Great post, I just finished "Flags of Our Fathers" , it's a must read.
I'll have to get me a copy...I keep hearing good things about that book.
MEMORIAL DAY is almost here!!!
redrock
BUMP Backatcha......
redrock
BUMP....
redrock
Thanks for the reply and I just hung dad's flag out, flying high from our barn's hayloft for all to see, and you can see it from way down on our road.
It's great to be an American. FReegards all and have a safe and fun Memorial Day weekend.
BIG bump from me, to ALL Veterans, everywhere. Thank You.
And a toast: To the Absent Companions, WE WILL NEVER FORGET.
"And a toast: To the Absent Companions, WE WILL NEVER FORGET."
Amen!!!
redrock
MEMORIAL DAY....
redrock
BUMP....
redrock
Thanks for this post.When I saw 'Saving Private Ryan" I went with a nice woman who wanted to go see it with someone who'd been in combat.Well, ,we did ,a nice little family style theatre in Minneapolis. I was suddenly sweating and did not stop til well after the film was over and we'd gone back to her home. The order,plea, admonishimont to "earn it" hung with me. I do not know if the reaction I had to this movie was the catalyst, but we ended shortly there after.Funny thing, I did serve ,and as an air traffic controller, I suppose I still do.But, honestly, I do not know yet if I have "earned it".I keep seeing so many more miles to go, and fields to cross and battles to fight. This said ,I look at all those clueless about and around us who cannot get past what we "owe" to them .I know those to whom all good things I have now are owed, and shall cherish that time I was honored to know them, those now old and those who remain forever young.
Thank God for men such as those
BUMP...
redrock
A needed prompting in honor of so many who had their priorities straight. Thanks to both of you for reminding us (me) of our (my) duties.
Thank You...
redrock
BUMP.....
redrock
We spend this holiday remembering the thousands who have given their lives for our freedom - what's left of it.
Yet, when was the last time we were allowed to honor a hero who died for American democracy and the American way of life?
Go ahead; think of a name. Ollie North, maybe?? Wasn't he the Marine connected with that CIA drug deal?
Celebrities are substituted; but nobody makes the distinction. They're sanctified in 'Halls of Fame.' People pay to go there. Our kids trade cards with the pictures and data on them. Those cards are not cheap - and, theyre collector items.
We know the names of the ball players who make millions doing something for sport. We know their statistics, the dates of the games, the hosting city and the opposing team - certainly the score. The media keeps up on their criminal records.
Yet, it would be difficult to find a town in America that doesn't have it's own hero who died on a battlefield. It wasn't sport. He might have made six hundred dollars in his last year alive - fighting for our freedom. Nobody seems to know his salary, his unit, his rank, nor much of his valor. Except for close family, few even know of his death.
Was he important? Nobody is quite sure.
We remember his brother or cousin who returned alive. You know, the guy in the wheel chair. He's deplored because he gets "free" medical care - maybe - from the VA.
He's the one who has the drinking problem; he's still trying to forget. Nobody wants to know what he's trying to forget and he won't talk about it, so it can't be too important.
We can't remember his name, but you know, he's the one in the wheelchair. He had the brother or cousin killed in the war. Why is it that we can't remember the name???
Strange; we just can't remember.
BUMP...
redrock
I haven't seen Private Ryan I'm Mad at the actor for being such a commie.
A bump to read later. Thanks Redrock. Just got back from a 10 day stay at our trailer on Lake Huron.
Thanks, Redrock, for a great thread.
All too often, we forget what this day is about. You've reminded me and I appreciate it.
To those that are still with us, thanks, Dad, Mac, Cliff, Bill, Skeetabite, Jack, Uncle Harold, and countless others that I can't even think of.
To those that gave their lives, a special thanks. I only wish that I could thank you in person.
Thank you......
redrock
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