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HONORING A BAND OF BROTHERS!
THE FEW......  THE PROUD,
THE OLD MAN
(author unknown)
As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open.
The old man was looking at the engine. I put my groceries away in my car and continued to watch the old gentleman from about twenty five feet away.
I saw a young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm, walking towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too and took a few
steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and say something.
The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old man and I heard him yell at the old
gentleman saying, 'You shouldn't even be allowed
to drive a car at your age.' And then with a wave of his hand, he got in his car and peeled rubber out
of the parking lot.
I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as he went back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his wife
and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it would be okay. I had seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw me coming and stood straight and as
I got near him I said, 'Looks like you're having a
problem.'
He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I
looked under the hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was beyond me. Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the old man that I would be right back. I drove to the station and went inside and saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one of them and related the problem the old man had with his car and offered to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him.
The old man had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be comforting his wife. When he saw us he straightened up and thanked me for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem
(overheated engine) I spoke with the old gentleman.
When I shook hands with him earlier he had noticed my
Marine Corps ring and had commented about it, telling me that he had been a Marine too. I nodded and asked the usual question, 'What outfit did you serve with?'
He had mentioned that he served with the first Marine
Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal. He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was over. As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the mechanics lower the hood. They came over to us as the old man reached for his wallet, but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA card.
He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket. We all shook hands all around again and I said my goodbye's to his wife.
I then told the two mechanics that I would follow them
back up to the station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted their own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I wanted to pay for the help, but they refused to charge me. One of them pulled out a card from his pocket looking exactly like the card the old man had given to me. Both of the men told me then, that they were Marine Corps Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one of them told me I should look at the card the old man had given to me. I said I would and drove off.
For some reason I had gone about two blocks when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long, long time. The name of
the old gentleman was on the card in golden leaf and
under his name....... 'Congressional Medal of Honor Society.'
I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and over. I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled that on this day, four Marines had all come together, because one of us needed help. He was an old man all right, but it felt good to have stood next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in his presence.
ALWAYS  MARINES!
Veterans, did I forget to say “Thank you”?
By Patricia Goodin, Staff Writer
This article appeared in the Novato Advance, Novato, CA
I meant to. Over the years, I have meant to say, “Thank you.” But I’ve been so busy. Busy with my life, growing up, and now with my own family and children.
When more than 400,000 of your brothers were killed in World War II, and more than 2,000,000 were disabled, you were there, securing my freedom, even before I was born- in the burning waters and sinking battleships at Pearl Harbor, in the grueling days of assaults on Omaha Beach, in the fields of Belgium and Holland, at the battle of the Bulge, in Okinawa and in the Philippines. And now, with each day, there are fewer and fewer of you left for me to thank.
In Korea, you fought with mud caked to your hands and feet and face, your fingers numb with cold, so that I could grow up in a safe and protected community in America- a world away from the horrors of war and immune to the threats of an enemy.
In my youth, when I was preoccupied with the world that revolved around me, my parents told me I should be thankful for the freedoms given to me at so costly a price. I meant to say “Thank you,” but I didn’t know you. And then there were the Beatles, and high school and parties. I didn’t see you there.
When I went off to college, on the step to achieving my dreams and goals, my choice- I would have said, “Thank you,” but I was wide-eyed with independence and personal liberties. And all around me there were people exercising their right to free speech- demonstrating and shouting their opposition to America’s involvement in Vietnam. And amid all the noise you had made a quiet and solemn promise. You promised that while you may not agree with what the demonstrators were saying, you would defend to the death their right to say it. And you did.
I meant to say, “Thank you.”
When your country called for you to defend freedom in Vietnam, you responded. You fought for the freedoms that I may have mistakenly thought were a natural right of mine. I didn’t understand that my liberties had been won at such a tremendous cost. You deserved a hero’s welcome when you came home. You still do. How did we allow your overwhelming sacrifices to go unrecognized?
And when you were finally liberated from the unspeakable conditions you suffered as a prisoner of war and were, at last, walking free on American soil, you walked up to a microphone that had been placed on the tarmac and spoke. Your first words were to thank the United States of America for giving you the privilege of having served the greatest country in the world.
I mean to say, “Thank you.”
In the Gulf War and in Somalia you fought to protect those who could not protect themselves. And you protected me from those who threatened my way of life. And with children and grandchildren of my own, I began to look over my shoulder, checking to see if I would find you there- putting your life in harm’s way, again, to protect our way of life for my children- the same protection I finally realized you had always provided for me. I wanted you to keep the threat away from our country and communities buffered from the horrors that you suffered- I wanted to cling to our right to the pursuit of happiness.
I meant to say, “Thank you.”
And coming to the sobering realization that I expect you to be there today, protecting us again- and knowing that you will because your country has asked you- I want to say, “Thank you.”
If, in the past, I hurried by you when you offered me a lapel poppy on Veteran’s Day, or if I quickly averted my eyes when you looked up at me from your wheelchair- it wasn’t because I didn’t care who you are – and respect what you are. I was simply overwhelmed with gratitude and overcome with humility, in your presence.
I meant to say, “Thank you.”
A Tribute To Veterans
In Vietnam, Korea and World Wars Past
Our Men Fought Bravely so Freedom Would Last
Conditions Where Not Always Best They Could Be
Fighting a Foe You Could Not Always See:
From Mountain Highs to Valley Lows
From Jungle Drops to Desert Patrols
Our Sinewy Sons Were Sent Over Seas
Far From Their Families And Far From Their Dreams
They Never Wrote Letters Of Hardships Despair
Only Of Love, Yearning That One Day Soon:
They Would Come Home, They Would Resume
And Carry On With The Rest of Their Lives
The P.O.W.¹S Stood Steadfast
Against the Indignities And Cruelties Of War
They Could Not Have Lasted as Long as They Did
If They Had Relinquished Their Hope That Some Day:
They Would Come Home, They Would Resume
And Carry On the Rest Of Their Lives
Medics, Nurses, and Chaplains Alike
Did What They Needed To Bring Back Life
They Served Our Forces From Day Into Night
Not Questioning If They Would Survive:
They Mended Bones And Bodies Too,
They Soothed the Spirits of Dying Souls
And for Those M.I.A¹S, Who Were Left Behind
We Echo This Message Across the Seas
We Will search For as Long As It Takes
You¹re Not Forgotten And Will Always Be:
In Our Hearts, In Our Prayers,
In Our Minds For All Time
A Moment of Silence, a Moment of Summons
Is Their Deliverance of Body And Soul
To a Sacred Place That We All Know
Deep In the Shrines of Our Soul:
In Our Hearts, In Our Prayers
In Our Minds For All Time
INTERLUDE:
GOLD STAR MOTHERS GRIEVE: ENDLESSLY,
ENDLESSLY, ENDLESSLY.......
These Immortalized Soldiers Whose Bravery Abounds
They¹re Our Husbands, Fathers, and Sons
They Enlisted For the Duty at Hand
To Serve the Cause of Country and Land:
They Had Honor, They Had Valor,
They Found Glory That Change Them Forever
Men Standing Tall and Proud They be
A Country Behind Them in a Solemn Sea
So Let the Flags of Freedom Fly
Unfurled in Their Majesty High:
In the Sun, In the Rain
In the Winds Across This Land
Years of Tears Has Brought Us Here
Gathering Around to Hear This Sound
So Let the Flags of Freedom Fly
Unfurled in Their Majesty High:
In the Sun, In the Rain,
In the Winds Across This Land
REPEAT:
In the Sun, In the Rain,
In the Winds For All Time
Patriotic song lyrics by:
Jerry Calow (copyright 2003 )
POW/MIA
A poem by Peter S. Griffin
Our solemn pledge to you, we will renew each day,
A heartfelt prayer, on our lips, we will say…
To our compassionate God, we will send His way,
Our symbol of you, this beautiful bouquet…
We promise you, we will not stop,
‘Til He responds to our beloved Forget-Me-Nots…
Until He lights your way, with His bright, shining rays,
And you rejoin your loved ones, on that glorious day!
AMERICA’S GREATEST TREASURE
A poem by Peter S. Griffin
AMERICA’S GREATEST TREASURE,
To evaluate the worth, value beyond measure…
What could it be? Gems, silver, gold…hoarded in secrecy?
No, my friends, this treasure is right here, amongst you and me…
Take a good look, and you will clearly see,
Deeds recorded, inscribed, in our nation’s history…
For without this resource, our country would have ceased to be,
For my friends, there is no substitute for liberty..!
Graying hair, failing eyes, wrinkled brows, a distant stare,
A slow, deliberate gait, missing limbs, confinement to a wheelchair…
A Mother’s gold star, loved ones lost, tears in ones eyes,
Folded flags, old uniforms, medals worn, and muffled cries…
All these descriptions symbolize service, dedication, and sacrifice,
For these reasons, our way of life, and our nation thrives…
For love of country, many hardships and sufferings were endured,
Our many rights and freedoms, thus secured…
It is not only the rumor of war, but the beast itself, they have confronted,
Tis the only way, hell on earth, can be successfully blunted…
For always, unfortunately, it seems to be,
The way despots and tyrants try to extinguish the flame of liberty…
Through the ages, the beast has appeared all over the earth,
These are the times when humanity must prove it’s worth…
Ordinary people, forced, must take a stand,
To protect the dove, that graces our land…
Who can these brave men and women be..,
Those who faced the beast, protected lives and liberty…
Our nation’s veterans, AMERICA’S GREATEST TREASURE,
To salute them on their special day, our greatest pleasure..!
We honor the soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines,
All who fought, securing our nation’s dreams…
To salute them all, who answered the call,
Who wore the uniform and stood so tall…
Those who valiantly led the way,
Through the darkest night of “The Longest Day!”
Those who daringly shouted, “Follow Me!”,
Down “Hell’s Highway” to hard fought victory…
To honor our patriots, whose lives did perish,
Preserving the freedoms, we love and cherish…
They are the finest of all generations,
They are AMERICA’S GREATEST TREASURE...
These gallant heroes, these veterans who have enriched your life beyond measure!
~IN HONOR OF~
"THE BATTERED BASTARDS OF BASTOGNE"
After the Battle of the Bulge, the Belgium people were so thankful for being liberated they went out on the battlefields and policed up all the howitzer shell brass. They melted them down and made plaques, like the one above, and gave them to each individual soldier. There is a second version that is round. Grif
A TIME TO
 REMEMBER
Please click logo above to read the poem, "A Time To Remember", by Grif, honoring "The Battered Bastards Of Bastogne".
WHO ARE THESE MEN
By Jodie Johnson
Who are these men
who march so proud
who quietly weep
eyes closed, head bowed?
These are the men
who once were boys
who missed out on youth
and all of its joys.
Who are these men
with aged faces
who silently count
the empty spaces.
These are the men
who gave their all
who fought for their country
for freedom for all.
Who are these men
with sorrowful look
who still can remember
the lives that were took?
These are the men
who saw young men die.
The price of peace
Is always high.
Who are these men
who in the midst of the pain
whispered comfort to those
they would not see again?
These are the men
whose hand held tomorrow
who brought back our future
with blood, tears and sorrow.
Who are these men
who promise to keep
alive in their hearts
the ones God holds asleep?
These are the men
to whom I promise again
Veterans, my friends,
I WILL REMEMBER THEM.
~For A Child~
By Kim Journey
Look at me, remember,
I’m the one you’re fighting for
I’m the reason you’re a soldier
I’m the reason for this war
I’m young and need protection
Of my rights and liberty
Look at me once more
And tell me what you see.
A child, just as you were
Of the future generation
Growing free and proud
In the world’s strongest nation
All my hopes and dreams in reach
At my fingertips
And my promise of allegiance
Still warm upon my lips.
See me, I’m a product
Of every battle fought
Of everyone who gave their lives
Of all the heartache brought
To the loved ones of my forebears
Who stood so proud and brave
I’m the child of each veteran
Now lying in his grave.
Hear me, I salute you
For all you do for me
The arms you bear, the sacrifice,
That keeps this country free
For your willingness to pay the price
To give this gift to me
My right, as an American
To be all I can be.
Kim wrote the above poem in honor of the Troopers of the 3/187th Infantry, ~101st Airborne Division~
Honoring our true friends and brave allies to our north. God bless Canada and "God save the queen!"
Lt. Col. McCrae, a member of the Canadian contingent, died in France on January 28, 1918, after four years of service on the western front. Thank you, Sir, and all the brave Canadian people for defending freedom.
If you would like to submit an article or poem thanking America's veterans.
You can now order "When You Hear The Bugle Call" from Amazon.com by clicking the above cover.
You can also order THOUGHTS, MEMORIES AND TEARS from Barnes & Noble.Com. Please click book cover above to see what their customers have to say about this anthology of war, death and remembrance, thank you.
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with our veterans and say "thank you!"