Though the war in Iraq has officially been declared "over", our soldiers are still in harm's way over in Iraq and Afganistan. This page is only my small attempt at showing my love of God and country. My prayers and thoughts are with our brave service men and women overseas now. They have fought a good fight and kept the faith. They represent the best of America. Theirs is not to wonder why. Theirs is to do or die.

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." ~ 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

Freedom Isn't Free

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.
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.

Letter from Kuwait

This poem was in a letter from a marine in Kuwait dated March 9th. The marines were hearing about the anti-war protests and they were upset. That's all the letter talked about. Finally they decided to write this enclosed poem...he and his buddies wrote.

"WISH YOU WERE HERE"

For all the free people that still protest. You're welcome. We protect you and you are protected by the best.

Your voice is strong and loud. But who will fight for you? No one standing in your crowd.

We are your fathers, brothers, and sons, Wearing the boots and carrying guns. We are the ones that leave all we own, To make sure your future is carved in stone. We are the ones who fight and die, We might not be able to save the world, Well, at least we try.

We walked the paths to where we are at And we want no choice other than that. So when you rally your group to complain, Take a look in the back of your brain.

In order for that flag you love to fly, Wars must be fought and young men must die. We came here to fight for the ones we hold dear. If that's not respected, we would rather stay here.

So please stop yelling, put down your signs, And pray for those behind enemy lines. When conflict is over and all is well, Be thankful that we chose to go through hell.

Corporal Joshua Miles and all the boys from 3rd Battalion 2nd Marines, Kuwait

Tiles and patriotic blinkies from Wagsouth

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Remember September

You are listening to Johnny I hardly knew ye
(When Johnny comes Marching Home)