I don't know if its appropriate to single out any one war, but I'd like to give a special thank you to those guys who missed it all and died to start for us what we have. Thank you to all the others, no less.
[ edited by jamesoblivion on May 27, 2001 12:17 PM ]
There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones
Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms.
A special thanks to every soldier in every war, both living and dead.
posted on May 27, 2001 07:51:09 PM new
Words at thier best are inadequate compensation for the losses through death and for the losses to the living from their deaths. As time permits, I will not forget.
For those who willingly risked their lives,
For sisters, daughters, Mothers, wives,
For those who stood and marched away:
A heartfelt Thanks to you today.
For those who stood in foreign flood,
In cold rain and clinging mud,
Who saw their buddies drenched in blood,
Yet knew their cause was just and good;
A heartfelt Thanks today.
For those who stayed at home to pray,
While sons and husbands marched away,
And those who never saw the day,
When love returned safe, home to stay;
A heartfelt Thanks today.
For those who fought when even they,
Believed there was a better way,
And gave their lives and limbs to say,
I answered the call, I was made to pay.
A heartfelt Thanks today.
Oh yes, there is both pain and grief,
Mixed in with tears of sweet relief,
For those so willing their life to give,
That we may safely dwell and live.
I could not judge them either way;
But I MUST send my Thanks their way.
*author unknown
posted on May 27, 2001 08:23:33 PM new
A special thought, also, for the families of those who, in several wars, are still unaccounted for. Theirs is a unique pain of loss with no closure, death with no known grave, an empty chair kept ready but no longer an expectation of filling it.
posted on May 27, 2001 10:59:49 PM new
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields
"In Flanders Fields" was first published in England's "Punch" magazine in December, 1915. Within months, this poem came to symbolize the sacrifices of all who were fighting in the First World War. Today, the poem continues to be a part of Remembrance Day ceremonies in Canada and other countries. The poem was written by a Canadian - John McCrae, a doctor and teacher, who served in both the South African War and the First World War.
Thanks for the start KRS. And Thanks to all who gave their all.
Keith
I assume full responsibility for my actions, except
the ones that are someone else's fault.
posted on May 28, 2001 07:03:34 AM new
Good Morning.
Those of us who have never been on a battlefield, whether as a soldier, nurse, doctor or war correspondent, will never really know what it is like to be in the thick of a war.
I am constantly amazed that those involved with so much death, destruction, and seeing the worst of what a human being can do to another human being are able to, or expected to, return home and resume a "normal" life.
I'm not sure I would be up to this requirement.
This day is dedicated to those who were denied the opportunity to at least try.
