It all started one fateful day, when a band of farmer's came out to say, "we want our freedom" and in responce a shot rang out.
On this fateful day, farmer's became soldier's, or "minitmen" of there day.
From Lexington to Concord the word got out, It's was time for War they had no doubt. Although there rank's were filled with untrained men, they were the first soldier's with out a doubt.
From this tiny band, an ARMY was created. To these brave farmer's we owe a great debt. They gave there live's for freedom.
From Bunker Hill to Vally Forge, on to Philly and New York. They fought for Independence from the start. They never gave up, and finaly won. Thank's to the Citizen Soldier who was the one.
In 1812 England tryed again, The Citizen Soldier came through the same then. They burned our new Capitol, and marched right through. But even the Presadent help kick there butt's too. Back to England they went, never to try again.
In the 1850's another war came, the Citizen Soldier showed Mexico the same. We will never surrender our citizen's, our land, or our freedom for your gain.
In the 1860's the polaticion's played a game, I wore two color's but faught the same, Blue and Grey were the color's of that day. But we came back together, this time to stay.
In the fallowing year's I faught the "Red Man", I was told to kill them off and take his land. Never knowing one day we would both fight side by side against a forgn plain.
In the 1890's Spain sunk the Maine, The "Rough Rider's" went up San Joun Hill, Taught them a lesson, there hurtin still.
In 1900's we faught the "Krout's", In muddy trench's we shind out. We didn't come home till it was "Over, over there"
In 1941 it began again, another fight for our freedom from the "Yellow Man". This time we faught in the Air, on the Sea, and the Land. Again we won, this is OUR land!
In 1950, we were at war again. Fighting for Freedom for Forgn man. In a place called Korea we sent our Infentry To this day, were still on that line, and probably will till the end of time.
In the 1960's we went again. To a jungle called "Vietnam". At home was a fight, burning draft card's was there delight. I faught in a jungle, in this forgn land. At home they smoked pot, and burned my Flag. All I wanted was to come home, and be treated like a man. Instead I was spit on, and called a "baby killer" They will never know, the pain Ive had.
Ever since then Ive gone to forgn land's, To get our citizen's out of communist hand's From Granada to Panama Ive served without a doubt. From Saudi to Samolea and Bosnea too. Ive become a policeman and a Soldier too. Where ever the Government call's I'll be there, fighting for freedom that we hold true.
Please remember this the next time they burn our Flag. Freedom wasn't won by the protester's hand. It was purchesd with blood from our fellow contrymen. From the "Red Man" to the "White man" and The "Black Man" too. We have stood together and gave this to you.
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 them 38th parallel.
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.
He is the Quantico drill instructor that 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.
He is the career quartermaster who watches
the ribbons and medals pass him by.
He is 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.
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.
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".
Remember, November 11th is Veterans Day.
One fine man probably summarized it best...
"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 protester
to burn the flag."
Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
