Posted on 05/25/2002 2:11:27 PM PDT by soozla
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.
-Author unknown
Semper Fi, Warriors.
My dad took me and my brother to the movie, "Midway," when I was five. I dreamed of being a Naval aviator 'til I was 11, and told I needed glasses. That has to be THE toughest job in the whole military, and is only made tougher by the precedent folks like your dad set....
I know where many have gone...my wife and I took my 81 year old sister to Ocean View Cemetary in Eureka today to put flowers on her husbands grave. The veterans groups were just finishing up putting flags on the Veterans graves and it was stunning to see fields of small U.S.flags. Freds unit build dirt airfields for the P47s from the beachhead to the Rhine River. My sister was a WAC and will be buired along side him. Our two brothers and another brother in law served also.
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
In great deeds something abides. On great fields something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls.
And reverent men and women from afar, and generations that knew us not, and that we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them, shall come to this deathless field, to ponder and dream; and lo! the shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into their souls.
This is the great reward of service. To live, far out and on, in the life of others; this is the mystery of the Christ -- to give life's best for such high sake that it shall be found again unto life eternal.
In penning these words, I think Colonel Chamberlain echoed the almost overpowering feeling that each of us experiences (but may not have the eloquence to express) when we visit the hallowed ground where battles were fought for us, or when we stand near the ground under which the bodies of those who laid down their lives for liberty are buried, or when we simply take the time to contemplate the sacrifices that have been made for centuries by our own countrymen, not only for the lives and liberties of us, their fellow Americans....but also for the lives and liberties of others outside of our own borders. To those courageous Americans who know its God-given value, the blessing of life and liberty knows no borders.
God (is already) bless(ing) them all.
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