Bury Me With Soldiers

eMail | 11-4-03 | Unknown

[FlyLow]

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

For no one else does more.

Author unknown

[FlyLow]

I think this puts service to your country in perspective.

[yhwhsman]

THE FINAL INSPECTION........................................

The Final Inspection
The Marine stood and faced his God
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, Devil-Dog,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
The Marine squared his shoulders and
said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here,
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was a silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Marine waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God,
"Step forward now, Marine,
You've borne your burdens well,
Walk your post on Heaven's streets,
You've served your time in Hell."
-- Author Unknown

[Quix]

THANKS.

[SandRat]

Among Freinds

Remembered by family long after

[Quix]

BEAUTIFUL. THANKS.

[FlyLow]

Wonderful pics...thanks

[FlyLow]

Great read...thanks

[FlyLow]

You are quite welcome

[Right_in_Virginia]

Beautiful...

Godspeed to our fighting heroes.

[EverOnward]

In honor of our finest -- thanks for this thread

[desertcry]

Yes, indeed and thank you.

[desertcry]

A great poem and soul searching, thanks.

[PISANO]

To all of our "FALLEN WARRIORS": Thank you, rest easy in GOD'S grace and save a place for me!!

[victim soul]

I'll take the man, with all the flaws,

Who goes, though scared, and dies.

[Smokin' Joe]

Outstanding. Simply Outstanding.

[patton]

BTTT

[timydnuc]

My God, that's beautiful. Took me 20 minutes to get "this thing" out of my eye.

The reason the left is so aggitated is because they can't come to the realization that life ends. At the end of our lives is salvation or condemation, and you get to choose.

"He who believith in me shall not parish"...quote, the Lord God Almighty. I'll believe in that, and I may get a chance to meet the brave men that preceeded me.

Semper Fi, Marine,... we did good.

From an old Ranger that lived through that war.

[yhwhsman]

Thanks for your service timydnuc, I'm damn proud of you.

I found that poem in a newsletter devoted to the Marine Corps, from www.grunt.com. It's a great newsletter, each one will make you laugh, cry, and swell with pride.

Once again, thanks my friend.

[Susannah]

What is a Vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.

He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She (or he) is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or the guy who didn't come back AT ALL.

He is the Paris Island drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot: "THANK YOU."

It's the soldier, not the reporter, Who gave us our freedom of the press.
It's the soldier, not the poet, Who gave us our freedom of speech.
It's the soldier, not the campus organizer, Who gave us our freedom to demonstrate.
It's the soldier, Who salutes the flag, Who serves others with respect for the flag, And whose coffin is draped by the flag, Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Pray for our Servicemen and -women:
hold our troops in Your loving hearts. Pray they are protected as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need.

[FlyLow]

Thanks for the great poem, Susannah.