Posted on 10/03/2001 4:21:45 PM PDT by CHIEF negotiator
The nerve of that Marine Corps recruiter telling me I'll too old to re-up!
I said,
I'll die my hair to cover the gray, get lippo-suction and a face-lift, if you can push this paperwork through, Sergeant."
He didn't go for it. Should I lie about my age?
Westmoreland :
"Oh, but if we had but one more from England here this day."
Enter Henry:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
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:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
--KING HENRY V, Act IV, Scene III
R.I.P., my brother.
My prayers for those 'left behind' who knew and loved him most. He's probably discussing reforming 'tax policy' with St. Peter as we mourn.
For what it's worth, this freeper thinks you could have kicked those young punks' asses! :)
The Lord was clearly looking for a FEW GOOD MEN.
He got one of the best.
Maybe HE'LL let you re-up.
And No One did more with his .02 cents than you!
We will miss you greatly here! :(
I assume wiser heads will allow you to sign up as a guardian angel to help watch over our guys over there.
RIP
Thank you for your service to our country.
Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
You're never too old to be a patriot, nor is all patriotic duty of a military nature.
My Dad was a Foreign Service Staff Officer despite having come down with polio in the 20's. He served his country for over 30 years in all kinds of far away places. As kids we were already instructed in taking what would now be considered anti-terrorist precautions. Always keep the drapes drawn, when going places you frequent change your route often, and never, ever mention to anybody those people you see come in the house to whom you are not introduced.
Years later, as he was in his dottage, uncertain of what the topic of conversation was or which of his sons he was talking to, my brother asked him about some of those visitors. Snapping to full alertness and clarity he replied in a clipped voice, "Can't talk about that. National security."
God rest him.
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