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Dedicated to all Veterans, especially
to those who still await their homecoming...
"The
world will very little note nor long remember what we say here; but it can
never forget what they did here.
"It
is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated, here, to the unfinished
work that they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for
us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us; that from
these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they
here gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve
that these dead shall not have died in vain; that the nation, under God,
have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the
people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." |
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Abraham Lincoln
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
November 19, 1863
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DADDY,
WHAT IS A VET?
Some
veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged
scar, a certain look in the eye.
Others may carry the evidence
inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the
leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in
the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, the
men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. |
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You
can't tell a vet just by looking.
What
is a vet?
He
is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two
gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out
of fuel.
He
is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic
scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel. |
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She
- or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
He is
the POW who went away one person and came back another – or didn't
come back AT ALL.
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He is
the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat – but has
saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang
members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He
is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with
a prosthetic hand. |
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He is
the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.
He
is any of the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with
them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is
the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and
aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who
wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the
nightmares come. |
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He is an
ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered
some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and
who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice
theirs.
He is a
soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing
more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest,
greatest nation ever known.
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So
remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just
lean over and say "Thank You."
That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more
than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.
Two
little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU".
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It
is the soldier, not the reporter,
Who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet,
Who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier,
Who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protestor to burn the flag. |
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Father
Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC |
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| The names below link to pages dedicated
to POW/MIA servicemen I have adopted. Their names are here honorably
enshrined until the final accounting. |
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This site is owned by
David Budworth
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JUST A SIMPLE SOLDIER
He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast
As he sat around the Legion telling stories of the past.
Of a war he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies, they were heroes - every one.
And sometimes to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,
But all his buddies listened, for they knew of which he spoke.
We'll hear his tales no longer, for our friends has passed away,
and the world's a little poorer, for a soldier was buried today.
He won't be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,
For he lived an ordinary, very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised his family, quietly going on his way,
And the world won't note his passing: `tho a soldier was buried today.
When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.
Newspapers tell of their life stories from the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary guy, who in times of war or strife,
Signs up to serve his country and offers up his life?
The politician's stipend and the style in which he lives,
Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives.
While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal, and perhaps a pension small.
It's so easy to forget them, for it was so long ago,
That those guys did something special, but nevertheless we know.
It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,
Who've earned for us the freedom that this country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger with your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out with his ever-waffling stand?
Or would you want a real soldier who swore he would defend,
His home, his state, his country, and would fight until the end?
He was just a common soldier and those ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us, we'll need his likes again.
For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part,
Is to clean up all the troubles that politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor while he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage at the end of his days.
Perhaps a simple headline in the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING - FOR A SOLDIER WAS BURIED TODAY."
- Author Unknown -
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October 20, 2003
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You are listening to Ray Boltz, The
Call/An Honor to Serve (1995)
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