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.
- John McCrae
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
- Wilfred Owen
article said:And in Section 60 a widow, young and beautiful and dressed in black, clutches her toddler son. Before her, standing to attention, the honor guard that had processed behind her husband's coffin, pulled in a caisson by six white horses. In the distance, the rifle guard that had fired the salute. In a far corner, the lone bugler who had played taps.
On this steamy spring day, beneath a towering oak, a 27-year-old Army sergeant, killed in an attack in Pakistan a month earlier, is about to be laid to rest.
Don’t thank a vet Monday – it’s Memorial Day
This is not early Veterans Day. It is MEMORIAL DAY. Memorial Day, and certainly not to insult anyone’s intelligence, is our country’s day to remember its fallen heroes. So don’t go around thanking veterans for their service on this day, especially if you don’t bother to do it any other day. To thank a veteran in this country’s current situation will most likely offend him or her, since most are now either directly or indirectly acquainted with a service member who gave the ultimate sacrifice. Memorial Day is a day for those who gave their lives for their country. No matter how many times the media tells you to “thank a veteran” on Monday, do not do that.
There is never a "right" or "wrong" day to thank a veteran just like there is not only one day in the year to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Every day is Atheist day ...... but no atheists in foxholes!
You know absolutely nothing about Pat Tillman I see!
Or his brother!
I know about Floyd TillmanYou know absolutely nothing about Pat Tillman I see!
Or his brother!
KNowledge isnt one of her strong suits.
Peace.