Eagle's Cry~

[cantdog]

I'm with the good Dr and Oggie on this one, war is shit, no real winners. War was different way back of course, not so high tech and more sort of personal, you actually saw your enemy, often face to face, not as now, dropping things on them from a mile or so up. I too have various uncles and other relatives spread about the world planted somewhere in a foreign field or jungle.

As we're finding though the supposed peace is just as bad... this phase isn't war of course... not even part of the world war on Terrorists... This is a bunch of Iraqi's trying it on to get their own way after years of being held back.

Unfortunately these types don't follow the same sort of rules as do we... They are also very hard to subdue or control because they are willing to die for their cause, and think that all of their enemies should feel the same way. They have no military training, and I doubt they keep a copy of the rules of 'The Geneva Convention' handy.

To the Iraqi captors, these hostages they're grabbing at the moment are no more than cannon fodder put there by the enemy. The troops occupying their lands are just a bunch of invading savages to these people. We can all throw our arms up and protest about this hostage taking and other war like acts in Iraq, but we must remember, we are occupying someone else's country, some locals are bound to be a bit pissed off.

Given these circumstances it will be a very difficult and bloody task rescuing anyone from them. That's not to say nobody should try, just that it could be doomed to disaster.

They mostly do have military training. Iraq had universal military service. We disbanded the army, but most people of a certain age have been in the army for a while as one of the costs of Iraqi citizenship. We teach our soldiers about the Geneva Convention rules; I daresay they did theirs, but what the hell. Once somebody occupies the place, you probably fight how you can.

Some of the hostage taking people, like the beheader of Berg, aren't Iraqi at all, but as foreign as we are over there. They have another agenda than the Iraqi insurgents do.

I don't know if Washington makes the distinction, but the Iraqis do. This stuff isn't necessarily being done by Iraqis or in their name.

cantdog

 

[bamagirl]

I Am A Soldier

I am a soldier.
My blood permeates the soil of many countries.

I have gasped my last breath on many a desolate
stretch of beach. For you...all of you, the children
who play in the parks, the mothers who watch over them,
the fathers who struggle to sustain them.

There are those here who have belittled and reviled me,
who have made a mockery of me and what I stand for.
You, also, have I suffered and died for.
I withstood heat, insects and disease
So the right to dissent would be yours.

I endured the pain and terror of battle and the maiming
of my body to ensure that you might worship as
you please. I died in agony in order that you,
no matter who or what you are,
Have the freedom to choose your own destinies.

AND I WOULD DO IT AGAIN
because I believe in the ideals that made this country
what it is today... FREE.
I love her with a deep and abiding love
that transcends mere physical pain.

I AM A SOLDIER.
Pray that I will always be there,
for if I disappear from this country, so will you.

~ Anonymous ~

 

[bamagirl]

SOLDIERS CREED
I AM AN AMERICAN SOLDIER.
I AM A WARRIOR AND A MEMBER OF A TEAM.I SERVE THE PEOPLEOF THE UNITED STATES AND LIVE THE ARMY VALUES.
I WILL ALWAYS PLACE MISSION FIRST.
I WILL NEVER ACCEPT DEFEAT.
I WILL NEVER QUIT.
I WILL NEVER LEAVE A FALLEN COMRADE.
I AM DISCIPLINED, PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY TOUGH, TRAINED AND PROFICIENT IN MY WARRIOR TASKS AND DRILLS. I WILL ALWAYS MAINTAIN MY ARMS, MY EQUIPMENT AND MYSELF.
I AM AN EXPERT AND I AM PROFESSIONAL.
I STAND READY TO DEPLOY,ENGAGE, AND DESTROY THE ENEMIES OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IN CLOSE COMBAT.
I AM A GUARDIAN OF FREEDOM AND THE AMERICAN WAY OF LIFE.
I AM AN AMERICAN SOLDIER

 

[bamagirl]

This was forwarded to me and found it interesting.

As I head off to Baghdad for the final weeks of my
stay in Iraq, I wanted to say thanks to all of you who
did not believe the media. They have done a very poor
job of covering everything that has happened. I am
sorry that I have not been able to visit all of you
during my two week leave back home.

And just so you can rest at night knowing something is
happening in Iraq that is noteworthy, I thought I
would pass this on to you.

This is the list of things that has happened in Iraq
recently:

(Please share it with your friends and compare it to
the version that your paper is producing):

Over 4.5 million people have clean drinking water for
the first time ever in Iraq.

Over 400,000 kids have up to date immunizations.

Over 1500 schools have been renovated and ridded of
the weapons that were stored there so education can
occur.

The port of Uhm Qasar was renovated so grain can be
off loaded from ships faster.

School attendance is up 80% from levels before the
war.

The country had it's first 2 billion barrel export of
oil in August.

The country now receives 2 times the electrical power
it did before the war.

100% of the hospitals are open and fully staffed
compared to 35% before the war.

Elections are taking place in every major city and
city councils are in place.

Sewer and water lines are installed in every major
city.

Over 60,000 police are patrolling the streets.

Over 100,000 Iraqi civil defense police are securing
the country.

Over 80,000 Iraqi soldiers are patrolling the streets
side by side with US soldiers.

Over 400,000 people have telephones for the first time
ever.

Students are taught field sanitation and hand washing
techniques to prevent the spread of germs.

An interim constitution has been signed.

Girls are allowed to attend school for the first time
ever in Iraq.

Textbooks that don't mention Saddam are in the schools
for the first time in 30 years.

Don't believe for one second that these people do not
want us there. I have met many, many people from
Iraq that want us there and in a bad way.

They say they will never see the freedoms we talk
about but they hope their children will. We are doing
a good job in Iraq and I challenge anyone, anywhere to
dispute me on these facts. So If you happen to run
into John Kerry, be sure to give him my email address
and send him to Denison,Iowa.

This soldier will set him straight. If you are like me
and very disgusted with how this period of rebuilding
has been portrayed, email this to a friend and let
them know there are good things happening.

Ray Reynolds, SFC

Iowa Army National Guard

234th Signal Battalion

 

[bamagirl]

Do You Know?

Do you know that at military funerals, the 21-gun salute stands for the sum of the numbers in the year 1776? (1+7=8+7=15=6=21)



Have you ever noticed the honor guard pays meticulous attention to correctly folding the United States of America flag 13 times? You probably thought it was to symbolize the original 13 colonies, but we learn something new every day!

The 1st fold of the flag is a symbol of life.



The 2nd fold is a symbol of the belief in eternal life.



The 3rd fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing the ranks who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of the country to attain peace throughout the world.



The 4th fold represents the weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war for His divine guidance.



The 5th fold is a tribute to the country, for in the words of Stephen Decatur, "Our Country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong.



The 6th fold is for where people's hearts lie. It is with their heart that They pledge allegiance to the flag of the United! States Of America, and the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.



The 7th fold is a tribute to its Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that they protect their country and their flag against all her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of their republic.



The 8th fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the valley of the shadow of death, that we might see the light of day.



The 9th fold is a tribute to womanhood, and Mothers. For it has been through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great has been molded.



The 10th fold is a tribute to the father, for he, too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of their country since they were first born.



The 11th fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon and glorifies in the Hebrews eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.



The 12th fold represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the Christians eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.



The 13th fold, or when the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding them of their nations motto, "In God We Trust."



After the flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat, ever reminding us of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, and the Sailors and Marines who served under Captain John Paul Jones, who were followed by their comrades and shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, preserving for them the rights, privileges and freedoms they enjoy today.

There are some traditions and ways of doing things that have deep meaning. In the future, you'll see flags folded and now you will know why.



Share this with the children you love and all others who love what is refered to, the symbol of "Liberty and Freedom"

 

[bamagirl]

> >Her hair was up in a pony tail,
>
> >her favorite dress tied with a bow.
>
> >Today was Daddy's Day at school,
>
> >and she couldn't wait to go.
>
> >
>
> >But her mommy tried to tell her,
>
> >that she probably should stay home.
>
> >Why the kids might not understand,
>
> >if she went to school alone.
>
> >
>
> >But she was not afraid;
>
> >she knew just what to say.
>
> >What to tell her classmates
>
> >of why he wasn't there today.
>
> >
>
> >But still her mother worried,
>
> >for her to face this day alone.
>
> >And that was why once again,
>
> >she tried to keep her daughter home.
>
> >
>
> >But the little girl went to school
>
> >eager to tell them all.
>
> >About a dad she never sees
>
> >a dad who never calls.
>
> >
>
> >There were daddies along the wall in back,
>
> >for everyone to meet.
>
> >Children squirming impatiently,
>
> >anxious in their seats.
>
> >
>
> >one by one the teacher called
>
> >a student from the class.
>
> >To introduce their daddy,
>
> >as seconds slowly passed.
>
> >
>
> >At last the teacher called her name,
>
> >every child turned to stare.
>
> >each of them was searching,
>
> >for a man who wasn't there.
>
> >
>
> >"Where's her daddy at?"
>
> >she heard a boy call out.
>
> >"She probably doesn't have one,"
>
> >another student dared to shout.
>
> >
>
> >And from somewhere near the back,
>
> >she heard a daddy say,
>
> >"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
>
> >too busy to waste his day."
>
> >
>
> >The words did not offend her,
>
> >she smiled up at her Mom.
>
> >and looked back at her teacher,
>
> >who told her to go on.
>
> >
>
> >And with hands behind her back,
>
> >slowly she began to speak.
>
> >And out from the mouth of a child,
>
> >came words incredibly unique.
>
> >
>
> >"My Daddy couldn't be here,
>
> >because he lives so far away.
>
> >But I know he wishes he could be,
>
> >since this is such a special day.
>
> >
>
> >And though you cannot meet him,
>
> >I wanted you to know.
>
> >All about my daddy,
>
> >and how much he loves me so.
>
> >
>
> >He loved to tell me stories
>
> >he taught me to ride my bike.
>
> >He surprised me with pink roses,
>
> >and taught me to fly a kite.
>
> >
>
> >We used to share fudge sundaes,
>
> >and ice cream in a cone.
>
> >And though you cannot see him.
>
> >I'm not standing here alone.
>
> >
>
> >"Cause my daddy's always with me,
>
> >even though we are apart
>
> >I know because he told me,
>
> >he'll forever be in my heart"
>
> >
>
> >With that, her little hand reached up,
>
> >and lay across her chest.
>
> >Feeling her own heartbeat,
>
> >beneath her favorite dress.
>
> >
>
> >And from somewhere in the crowd of dads,
>
> >her mother stood in tears.
>
> >Proudly watching her daughter,
>
> >who was wise beyond her years.
>
> >
>
> >For she stood up for the love
>
> >of a man not in her life.
>
> >Doing what was best for her,
>
> >doing what was right.
>
> >
>
> >And when she dropped her hand back down,
>
> >staring straight into the crowd.
>
> >She finished with a voice so soft,
>
> >but its message clear and loud.
>
> >
>
> >"I love my daddy very much,
>
> >he's my shining star.
>
> >And if he could, he'd be here,
>
> >but heaven's just too far.
>
> >
>
> >You see he was a fireman
>
> >and died just this past year
>
> >When airplanes hit the towers
>
> >and taught Americans to fear.
>
> >
>
> >But sometimes when I close my eyes,
>
> >it's like he never went away."
>
> >And then she closed her eyes,
>
> >and saw him there that day.
>
> >
>
> >And to her mothers amazement,
>
> >she witnessed with surprise.
>
> >A room full of daddies and children,
>
> >all starting to close their eyes.
>
> >
>
> >Who knows what they saw before them,
>
> >who knows what they felt inside.
>
> >Perhaps for merely a second,
>
> >they saw him at her side.
>
> >
>
> >"I know you're with me Daddy,"
>
> >to the silence she called out.
>
> >And what happened next made believers,
>
> >of those once filled with doubt.
>
> >
>
> >Not one in that room could explain it,
>
> >for each of their eyes had been closed.
>
> >But there on the desk beside her,
>
> >was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.
>
> >
>
> >And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,
>
> >by the love of her shining star.
>
> >And given the gift of believing,
>
> >that heaven is never too far.
>
> >
>
> >They say it takes a minute to find a special
>
> >person, an hour to appreciate them,
>
> >a day to love them, but then an entire
>
> >life to forget them.

 

[bamagirl]

Someone put together a flash presentation with music from Ricky Skaggs with
an overlay of a little girl talking to her Dad who is a soldier. Whew! This
is very touching and really puts things into perspective. I encourage you to
watch this. Click Here To <http://www.armedforcestribute.com/> View Be
sure to watch it all the little girl talks through the flash presentation.

no matter what your views are on the war in Iraq or what country you are from this will touch you. Gd Bless all

 

[bamagirl]

TAPS

We in the United States have all heard the haunting song, "Taps." It's the song that gives us that lump in our throats and usually tears in our eyes. But, do you know the story behind the song? If not, I think you will be interested to find out about its humble beginnings.

Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a
Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.

The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army.

The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted. The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier
was a Confederate. But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician. The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted.


The haunting melody, we now know as "Taps" ... used at military funerals was born. The words are

Day is done ... Gone the sun ... From the lakes ... From the hills ... From the sky All is well ... Safely rest ... God is nigh Fading light ... Dims the sight ... And a star ... Gems the sky Gleaming bright . From afar ... Drawing nigh ... Falls the night ... Thanks and praise ... For our days ... Neath the sun ... Neath the stars .. Neath the sky ... As we go ... This we know . God is nigh ...

I, too, have felt the chills while listening to "Taps" but I have
never seen all the words to the song until now. I didn't even know there was more than one verse. I also never knew the story behind the song and I didn't know if you had either so I thought I'd pass it along. I now have an even deeper respect for the song than I did before.

REMEMBER THOSE LOST AND HARMED WHILE
SERVING THEIR COUNTRY. And also those presently serving in the Armed Forces..

 

[My Erotic Tail]

Memorial day

I still hear the Eaglecry
for those who have lived and died
so that freedom may reside
so please wave your flag high
as memorial day does pass by
and we'll see the Eagle fly
Some will even cry
for memories they carry deep inside
some will be in a parade ride
all for the memory of those who died
I still hear the Eagle cry

 

[champagne1982]

I did not write this as any form of advocacy towards torture or pillage and plunder, all are reprehensible. It is a poem that tries to understand where a soldier's thoughts lead, when under those stresses, with those opportunities at hand. Not to mention a loaded rifle and carte blanche.

Morality In A War Zone

_________________________


and then there's this,

Last Orders

_________________________


I wrote this one for amicus, not that long ago:

Baby's Breath

Would that men had wombs.
Perhaps then soldiers' tombs
Would be fewer numbered
For as their fathers looked
Upon their baby's faces
There in the quiet night
As their children slumbered
They would realize that sleep
Is far better than is death
And that only peace
Is felt on a baby's breath.

 

[My Erotic Tail]

Thanks~

Thanks Carrie~

for that wonderful poem and link...
that was the true purpose of this
thread...

and...

Thanks Bama (Deb)

for the wonderful additions and
keeping this thread alive for me
and the soldiers that are defending
our country and way of life with
their own lives.

 

[bamagirl]

This is a link to a page on Mrs Alberta Martin who is the last living confederate widow.
I have known Mrs Alberta several years,and have had the priveledge of caring for her the last couple.This wonderful lady
has told me storys I could never learn from a book.She is a living history book.
Mrs Alberta is now 97 and 1/2 years old,and not in good health.
Please keep her in your prayers.

http://lastconfederatewidow.com/

 

[bamagirl]

I was pmed and asked if I could copy and post some things here on Mrs Alberta,as the persons computer would not open the link for them I hope this helps. For those who can open it there is much more info and pictures.

The Old Man’s Darling

By Matthew Linton Chancey

Crouching in a muddy Virginia trench, Pvt. William Jasper Martin, hot, wet and far from home, shivered with fever and contemplated his prospects. The backwoods 18 year-old boy represented the shattered remnants of an army that had captivated the world. The Army of Northern Virginia had started with a few local militias in fancy uniforms and smoothbore muskets, and within two years had earned an everlasting legacy of valor which would fill thousands of books and millions of hearts the world over.

They came from all over the South: from the well-bred, tidewater Virginia Caviler to the ruddy Scottish Presbyterian of the Southern Highlands. These men represented the South united and the hope of the young confederation of American States which had banded together—as their fathers and grandfathers had—to form a government of their own. Now in the summer of 1864, the South’s greatest army was slowly sinking into the mire around Petersburg and into history.

Today, the American Civil War is considered by most to be ancient history. Aside from your core group of history buffs, many Americans have trouble placing the War Between the States within the right century, let alone understanding the significance of why it was fought.

However, The War Between the States did not take place that long ago. It is true that the technological wonders of the 20th century have created a seemingly insurmountable wall between the Old South and the New. But the Old South is not that old. There are people still living today whose grandfathers fought in America’s greatest and most devastating war. There are even those living who had fathers marching under Robert E. Lee and "Stonewall" Jackson. But there is one individual connected to the Old South in a way in which none other can boast. Pvt. William Jasper Martin’s wife still lives. Mrs. Alberta Martin (92) is the last known living widow of a Confederate veteran.

If you want to visit "Miz" Alberta, you will not find her living on a plantation estate in Natchez, Mississippi, or Savannah, Georgia, but in a small assisted living facility in Elba, Alabama. Miz Alberta has been called "the last link to Dixie" because to meet her is to meet history face-to-face. Although she never lived in the 19th century, her connection to Pvt. W.J. Martin and the Confederacy is special and unique. Since 1996, Miz Alberta has received the "Alabama State Pension for the Widows of Confederate Soldiers, Sailors, and Marines." Her story is one of two centuries, two worlds, two societies, two political philosophies and two nations¾ all intersecting in the life of one truly remarkable lady.

Humble Beginnings

Miz Alberta was born Alberta Stewart on December 4, 1906, down in a little hollow by a sawmill at a place called Dannely’s Crossroads in Coffee County, Alabama. Today, although the sawmill is long gone, Dannely’s Crossroads looks much like it did in

1906—a simple intersection surrounded by cotton and peanut fields. An old filling station sits on the corner, representing the only commercial establishment in the community; and scattered here and there are a few house trailers and the remains of old barns and sharecropper homes.

Miz Alberta’s parents, like many folks in the rural South at that time, were sharecroppers who spent their lives moving from field to field, planting and picking under the steamy southern sky. "Back then times was hard," comments Miz Alberta, "Back in the olden times, we lived poor. Everything was cheap, but you had no money. It don’t seem like nothin’s like it use to be. Seems like ever’thing has got modern."

Folks alive today who grew up as sharecroppers will tell you that the arrangement usually resulted in farmer and field hand getting the essentials of life, but not much more. The better the soil in a particular field, the better the crop yield—which translated into greater profits for the sharecropper. Consequently, the Stewarts moved nearly every year, sometimes just across the street to work in an adjacent field.

Although modern family portraits usually picture family members neatly groomed and in comfortable living quarters, the only known picture of the Stewart family shows everyone in a cotton field—little cotton sacks hanging around the tiny bodies of the children. "Before we were old enough to pick, they would put us in a cotton basket and take us out to the field with ‘em. They would hang 24-pound flour sacks around our necks. I started pickin’ cotton just as soon as I could wear that sack. When we’d get that little ol’ cotton sack full, we emptied it into our mama or daddy’s sack. We shook peanuts, stacked peanuts, hoed peanuts, hoed cotton and picked up roots where they’d clear a patch …for plantin’ next year. It was hard work."

Even though the Stewarts and most of their neighbors were dirt poor, Miz Alberta still remembers some of the good times they had down on the farm. Every 4th of July, ol’ Doc Donaldson, who owned many of the fields in the area, would have a big Independence Day dinner where all his hands and anybody else who wanted to come could spend the day eating and playing games. Mr. Stewart loved to dance, and, according to Miz Alberta, "He could play the fiddle right smart." He decided to throw a party one day for all the neighbors. So they cleared the furniture and beds out of one room and had a big dance. Miz Alberta remembers that the guests spit tobacco juice all over the floor, and her daddy promised never to host another indoor dance again. Such was life on the red dirt roads in Curtis, Alabama.

With the good times came some bad as well. When Alberta was 11 years old, her mother died after a long, painful battle with cancer. In 1918, Alberta’s brother, A.J., went off to war in France for Uncle Sam. Shortly after A.J. shipped out, so did the rest of the Stewarts. Mr. Stewart decided to move his family to a place that might have been as distant as Europe as far as the children were concerned—Tallassee, Alabama (around 100 miles from Curtis).

It was in Tallassee that Alberta married her first husband, Howard Farrow, in a little church on a street corner. Mr. Farrow made his living driving a taxi cab. While she was pregnant with their first child, Miz Alberta worked 12 hours a day in a cotton mill until her clothes could no longer hide her condition. Shortly before their son, Harold, was born, Mr. Farrow abandoned his young, pregnant wife. Matters only worsened. When Harold was only six months old, his father burned to death in a violent car accident.

After Howard’s death, Alberta and her father moved back south, this time outside of Opp, Alabama, in Covington County. They moved in with Alberta’s half-brother and his family. Living conditions were cramped in the little house, and Miz Alberta would periodically take Harold out for some fresh air in the front yard. The house was surrounded by a picket fence, and it was at this fence line that Miz Alberta remembers seeing an old man frequently passing by on his way to town. Unbeknownst to her, this particular old man had passed the house for reasons other than to meet some old war buddies at the corner store for a game of dominoes.

Mr. Martin

Little is known of the early history of Pvt. W.J. Martin. He was born in Macon County, Georgia in December 1845, but spent most of his life in the Covington County area. W.J. joined the Confederate army in May, 1864. He fell in with Company K of the 4th Alabama Infantry Regiment, which at the time was involved in the siege of Petersburg and action around Richmond. As for the rest of his War record, confusion abounds, since there were three or four W. Martins in the 4th Alabama Infantry, including two in company K. It appears that several records have also been commingled.

What happened after Pvt. Martin arrived in Petersburg is sketchy. He took part in the Howlett’s House skirmish near Richmond and was eventually hospitalized with Rubella. Some records list a William Martin as a deserter, but that William Martin was recorded as being born in Alabama. William Jasper Martin was born in Georgia. The William Martin who was listed as a deserter joined the Army when he was 16. William Jasper Martin joined when he was 18. To add to the confusion, when W.J. was in the hospital, some of his comrades reported him dead.

Despite the ambiguity of the official record, Pvt. Martin later convinced the State of Alabama that he was eligible for the Confederate veterans’ pension through the production of witnesses testifying to his military service. Additionally, the War Department could find no evidence in 1920 that William Jasper Martin was a deserter. Mr. Martin, like so many other Alabama Confederate veterans, applied for a pension late in life—as one’s net worth had to be $400.00 or less to be eligible.

We may never know for sure whether W.J. was a deserter or not, but we do know that veteran Pvt. Martin was a true Confederate at heart. Miz Alberta remembers that he made an effort to attend every annual reunion of the United Confederate Veterans in Montgomery. "Mr. Martin," as Alberta called him, had changed considerably since his military days—at least physically. The sounds of battle long since faded, the old warrior was in his eighties now. But his elderly frame hid a youthful spirit.

Their courtship was brief—just a few conversations over the fence rail. He asked; she consented. Mr. Martin then had to ask Mr. Stewart for his daughter’s hand. Mr. Stewart gave his consent. Although it was an unusual match, he had little of which to complain. Mr. Martin was a sober man, and his generous pension of $50.00 a month would give Alberta and Harold a good life.

The wedding was scheduled for Saturday, December 10, 1927. W.J. was nearly 82; Miz Alberta had just turned 21. It may be safe to assume that never had the town of Opp heard such a story. This was to be a most abnormal marriage, and the gossip flowed freely. Mrs. Martin went to town and bought herself a blue dress with a floral design in front extending from the neckline down to the hem. Mr. Martin wore a dress shirt and sport coat. They were married at the courthouse in Andalusia, the Covington County seat. When asked if she loved him, Miz Alberta stated that her marriage to W.J. was not based on the type of love found between two young people, but on mutual respect and need. Both wanted companionship and support—a young widow with a baby to look after, and an old man who needed someone to take care of him.

The uneventful wedding concluded, Mr. Martin took his new bride home to meet the family. Mr. Martin lived with one of his sons (from an earlier marriage) and his family. Thus the peculiar wedding gave way to a very peculiar honeymoon when the new Mr. and Mrs. Martin spent their first night together in the same bedroom with four other family members. Needless to say, Miz Alberta remembers that "after that first weekend, we got out of that place and found us our own home in town."

No sooner had the gossip died down in Opp when it was announced that Mrs. Martin would be expecting her second child. Ten months after the marriage, Willie was born. Mr. Martin was very proud of his little boy. He would periodically take him into town, carrying the lad on his shoulders to show off his prize.

Remembering the War

Mr. Martin never talked very much to his young wife about his service with the 4th Alabama. One of the few things she remembers is his complaining about how hungry he was and how on passing a field, he would dig frantically to find a potato or something left from the harvest. The grim memories of trench warfare also were related. Mr. Martin told Alberta about how he and his messmates would constantly throw firewood, blankets, and anything else on the floor of the trench in order to stay out of the mud. He also confided to Miz Alberta that Union men had tried to get him to enlist and serve Abe Lincoln’s army—a proposition he flatly refused.

Mr. and Mrs. Martin’s marriage was brief, lasting only 4 1/2 years. During the 1920s and ‘30s, Pvt. Martin and his Confederate comrades began slipping into eternity at an ever-increasing rate. His funeral was very simple and without pageantry. Today, beneath a large cedar tree in the Cool Springs Primitive Baptist Church Cemetery in Opp, Alabama, a simple VA marker identifies his grave. Today, when asked why she married a man so much older than herself, Miz Alberta just smiles and says, "It’s better to be an old man’s darlin’ than a young man’s slave!"

Two months after Mr. Martin’s death, Alberta married again, this time to Mr. Charlie Martin. Charlie happened was the grandson of W.J. Martin from his first marriage, which had taken place over 50 years earlier. By this time, the folks in Opp had seen just about everything. At first, the local clergy were not sure how to handle the marriage, so Charlie and Alberta were temporarily estranged from their church. But upon further study of the Scripture, it was agreed that the Martins were not committing sin, and the couple was welcomed back into fellowship.

In 1936 the Martins moved to Elba, where they spent most of their life together. The two were married for over 50 years until Mr. Martin’s death in 1983. After Charlie died, Miz Alberta settled down for permanent widowhood. She led a quiet life, playing bingo at the local Senior Citizens Center and attending church with her friends. Every now and again someone would ask her about her Confederate husband, but for the most part Miz Alberta’s past remained largely unknown. That is until Daisy Wilson Cave, supposedly the "last known living Confederate widow" died around 1990.

The overlooked widow.

In the Spring of 1996 when the Pvt. William Rufus Painter Camp # 1719 realized who they had in their back yard, Dr. Ken Chancey, a visiting SCV member from the Col. William C. Oates Camp #809, Dothan, Alabama, volunteered to visit Miz. Alberta and see if the SCV could offer any assistance to her. After driving around Elba trying to find the right street, he finally received a police escort to her house. Miz Alberta was pleased as always to have visitors and listened intently as Dr. Chancey asked her questions about her needs. She made two requests to the doctor: One was that he help her receive the recognition to which she believed she was entitled for marrying into history. She modestly stated that she had never done anything all that important in her life, but she was the last Confederate widow. The second request was that the SCV look into her eligibility for a Confederate pension. After receiving assurance from Dr. Chancey that he would do his best, the two said their good-byes.

On to Richmond!

In 1996, the SCV held its 100th anniversary convention in Richmond, Virginia, at the majestic Jefferson Hotel. Men from all over the country gathered for the opening session of the Convention. SCV members could be easily identified—their Sunday suits glittered with heritage metals and Bonnie Blue lapel pins. The convention promised to be the one of the most memorable in SCV history.

In the main ballroom the 5th Alabama Infantry Band played Southern music with passion, and the stage was draped with a huge Confederate Battle Flag. After the ceremonies began, the Commander-in-Chief of the SCV announced that they had a special guest among them. "Men, can you believe it? We still have one with us!" He then introduced Alberta Martin as the last known living widow of a Confederate veteran, and the brand new recipient of the "Alabama State Pension for the Widows of Confederate Soldiers, Sailors, and Marines." Mrs. Martin was slowly wheeled down the aisle by Dr. Chancey. As she passed, whispers could be heard, "That’s the widow…that’s her, boys." The men burst into a rousing ovation while Miz Alberta, with both hands, began throwing kisses. This provoked the men to more intense applause and some were observed weeping, as they no doubt realized the special connection this 89-year-old woman had to their own Confederate heritage.

With the applause and rebel yells continuing, Miz Alberta was asked if she would like to say anything. She told the men that she loved them and thanked them for all they had done for her. With that, the ovations and rebel yells started up again. This was the largest and warmest reception Mrs. Martin had ever received in her life.

Miz Alberta has since been to numerous reenactments, Confederate grave dedications, a funeral for an unknown Gettysburg casualty, a meeting with a Union veteran’s widow, dedication of the Jefferson Davis Presidential Library, several more SCV annual conventions, and the recent Confederate Flag rally in Columbia, S.C.. Who would have thought that Fate would have it that a little old woman, who grew up dirt poor in southeast Alabama, would become the most unique direct link to an old civilization that has endeared the hearts of millions? Alberta Martin’s life is a silent reminder to us not to get so caught up in "progress" that we forget the important lessons and experiences from the past.

The seeds of her unique legacy have apparently fallen on fertile ground, for in the last ten years, Confederate heritage groups have mushroomed in the North and South. Never since the end of Reconstruction has there been such a renewed interest in what it means to be Southern and a descendant of a Confederate soldier, sailor, or marine. With this movement is developing a common icon—not of a masculine reenactor in his dress grays, or a suave politician speaking on State’s Rights—but of a little old widow from Elba, Alabama, waving a Confederate Battle Flag and blowing kisses to descendents of men who fought along with her late husband for the cause of Southern independence.

 

[My Erotic Tail]

Memorial Day weekend~

My hats off to the soldiers of the past
My hats off the ones to Iraq have dasshed
My hats off to those who protect our soil
My hats off to the allies in the desert boil
My hat off for those who lived and died
Ny hats off and keeping alive the Eagles Cry~

 

[bamagirl]

Remember the men who fought and died
On the shores of Tripoli.
They gave their lives in a far-away land
To keep America Free.

The Great War took many of our soldiers
In the trenches to the east.
They fought gallantly for the cause of freedom
So that we might live in peace.

The D-Day invasion was a solem time,
So many of our soldiers lost.
Their bravery, as they stormed that beach
Brought us victory with enormous costs.

Korea, Vietnam, Lebanon,
And the desert across the sea
Where our soldiers have given their lives
To protect us and set others free.

Today I honor these soldiers
Who fought with Valor and Gallantry.
They paid the price for my freedom
In the wars across the sea.

FREEDOM COMES WITH A PRICE
REMEMBER THEM ALL

Poem by: G. Alexander

 

[My Erotic Tail]

Excellent~

Remember the men who fought and died
On the shores of Tripoli.
They gave their lives in a far-away land
To keep America Free.

The Great War took many of our soldiers
In the trenches to the east.
They fought gallantly for the cause of freedom
So that we might live in peace.

The D-Day invasion was a solem time,
So many of our soldiers lost.
Their bravery, as they stormed that beach
Brought us victory with enormous costs.

Korea, Vietnam, Lebanon,
And the desert across the sea
Where our soldiers have given their lives
To protect us and set others free.

Today I honor these soldiers
Who fought with Valor and Gallantry.
They paid the price for my freedom
In the wars across the sea.

FREEDOM COMES WITH A PRICE
REMEMBER THEM ALL

Poem by: G. Alexander

wow great...
marvelous poem....
salute to all those who fought for our
freedom then and now...

 

[bamagirl]

This is a few years old,but still thought I would share

Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service. There are many stories as to its actual beginnings, with over two dozen cities and towns laying claim to being the birthplace of Memorial Day. There is also evidence that organized women's groups in the South were decorating graves before the end of the Civil War: a hymn published in 1867, "Kneel Where Our Loves are Sleeping" by Nella L. Sweet carried the dedication "To The Ladies of the South who are Decorating the Graves of the Confederate Dead" (Source: Duke University's Historic American Sheet Music, 1850-1920). While Waterloo N.Y. was officially declared the birthplace of Memorial Day by President Lyndon Johnson in May 1966, it's difficult to prove conclusively the origins of the day. It is more likely that it had many separate beginnings; each of those towns and every planned or spontaneous gathering of people to honor the war dead in the 1860's tapped into the general human need to honor our dead, each contributed honorably to the growing movement that culminated in Gen Logan giving his official proclamation in 1868. It is not important who was the very first, what is important is that Memorial Day was established. Memorial Day is not about division. It is about reconcilation; it is about coming together to honor those who gave their all.


Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The first state to officially recognize the holiday was New York in 1873. By 1890 it was recognized by all of the northern states. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State on the last Monday in May (passed by Congress with the National Holiday Act, P.L. 90 - 363, in 1971 to ensure a three day weekend for Federal holidays), though several southern states have an additional separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead: January 19 in Texas, April 26 in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi; May 10 in South Carolina; and June 3 (Jefferson Davis' birthday) in Louisiana and Tennessee.

In 1915, inspired by the poem "In Flanders Fields," Moina Michael replied with her own poem:



We cherish too, the Poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led,
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies.


She then conceived of an idea to wear red poppies on Memorial day in honor of those who died serving the nation during war. She was the first to wear one, and sold poppies to her friends and co-workers with the money going to benefit servicemen in need. Later a Madam Guerin from France was visiting the United States and learned of this new custom started by Ms.Michael and when she returned to France, made artificial red poppies to raise money for war orphaned children and widowed women. This tradition spread to other countries. In 1921, the Franco-American Children's League sold poppies nationally to benefit war orphans of France and Belgium. The League disbanded a year later and Madam Guerin approached the VFW for help. Shortly before Memorial Day in 1922 the VFW became the first veterans' organization to nationally sell poppies. Two years later their "Buddy" Poppy program was selling artificial poppies made by disabled veterans. In 1948 the US Post Office honored Ms Michael for her role in founding the National Poppy movement by issuing a red 3 cent postage stamp with her likeness on it.
Decorating the graves of the fallen diminished over the years. There are a few notable exceptions. Since the late 50's on the Thursday before Memorial Day, the 1,200 soldiers of the 3d U.S. Infantry place small American flags at each of the more than 260,000 gravestones at Arlington National Cemetery. They then patrol 24 hours a day during the weekend to ensure that each flag remains standing. In 1952, the Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts of St. Louis began placing flags on the 150,000 graves at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery as an annual Good Turn, a practice that continues to this day. More recently, beginning in 1998, on the Saturday before the observed day for Memorial Day, the Boys Scouts and Girl Scouts place a candle at each of approximately 15,300 grave sites of soldiers buried at Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania National Military Park on Marye's Heights (the Luminaria Program).

But most Americans nowadays have forgotten the meaning and traditions of Memorial Day. At many cemeteries, the graves of the fallen are increasingly ignored, neglected. People no longer remember the proper flag etiquette for the day. Many think the day is for honoring any and all dead, and not just those fallen in service to our country.

To help re-educate and remind Americans of the true meaning of Memorial Day, the "National Moment of Remembrance" resolution was passed on Dec 2000 which asks that at 3 p.m. local time, for all Americans "To voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence or listening to 'Taps." In an added development, this year [2001] on Memorial Day, the "Calling America s Heroes" Memorial Day campaign will provide free AT&T phone cards to the first 100 armed forces members or veterans who request them at participating 7-Eleven stores to "remind Americans of the real purpose of Memorial Day and thank veterans and members of the armed forces for their service to our great country."

Additionally, on January 19, 1999 Senator Inouye introduced bill S 189 to the Senate which proposes to restore the traditional day of observance of Memorial Day back to May 30th instead of "the last Monday in May". On April 19, 1999 Representative Gibbons introduced the bill to the House (H.R. 1474). The bills were referred the Committee on the Judiciary and the Committee on Government Reform.

 

[bamagirl]

The Blue and The Gray
By Unknown Author




"O mother! What do they mean by blue?
And what do they mean by gray?"
I heard from the lips of a little child
As she bounded in from her play.
The mother’s eyes were filled with tears;
She turned to her darling fair
And smoothed away from the sunny brow
The treasure of golden hair.


"Why, mother’s eyes are blue, my sweet,
And grandpa’s hair is gray,
And the love we bear our darling child
Grows stronger every day."
"For what do they mean?" maintained the child,
"For I saw two cripples to-day,
And one of them said he had ‘fought for the blue,’
The other had ‘fought for the gray.’


"The one of the blue had lost a leg,
And the other had but one arm,
And both seemed worn and weary and sad,
Yet their greeting was kind and warm,
They told of the battles in days gone by
Till it made my blood run chill,
The leg was lost in the Wilderness fight
And the arm on Malvern Hill.


"They sat on the stone by the farmyard gate
And talked for an hour or more,
Till their eyes grew bright and their hearts seemed warm
With fighting their battles o’er;
And parted at last with a friendly grasp,
In a kindly, brotherly way,
Each asking God to speed the time
Uniting the blue and the gray."


Then the mother thought of other days,
Two stalwart boys from her riven;
How they’d knelt at her side, and, lisping, prayed:
"Our Father, who art in heaven;"
How one wore the gray and the other the blue,
How they passed away from sight
And had gone to the land where gray and blue
Merge in tints of celestial light.


And she answered her darling with golden hair,
While her heart was sorely wrung
With thoughts awakened in that sad hour
By her innocent, prattling tongue;
"The blue and the gray are the colors of God;
They are seen in the sky at even,
And many a noble, gallant soul
Has found them passports to heaven."

 

[bamagirl]

The Mother of a Soldier

The Mother of a Soldier
The mother of a soldier --hats off to her, I say!
The mother of a soldier who has gone to face the fray;
She gave him to her country with a blessing on his head---
She found his name this morning in the long list of the dead:
"Killed -- Sergeant Thomas Watkins, while leading on the rest,
A Bible in his pocket and a portrait on his breast!"

The mother of a soldier -- she gave him to her land;
She saw him on the trasport as he waved his sun-browned hand;
She kissed him through the teardrops and she told him to be brave;
Her prayers went night and morning with her boy upon the wave.


The mother of a soldier -- her comfort and her joy,
She gave her dearest treasure when she gave her only boy;
She saw the banners waving, she heard the people cheer;
She clasped her hands and bravely looked away to hide a tear.
The mother of a soldier --ah! cheer the hero deed,
And cheer the brave who battle 'neath the banner of their creed;
But don't forget the mothers, through all the lonely years
That fight the bravest battles on the sunless field of tears.

Nay, don't forget the mothers -- the mothers of our men,
Who see them go and never know that they'll come back again;
That give them to their country, to battle and to die,
Because the bugles call them and the starry banners fly.


The mother of a soldier -- hats off to her, I say!
Whose head is bowed in sorrow with its tender locks of gray.
She gave without regretting, though her old heart sorely bled
When she found his name this morning in the long list of the dead:
"Killed -- Sergeant Thomas Watkins, while leading on the rest,
His dear old mother's portrait clasped upon his hero breast!"

--Folger McKinsey

 

[bamagirl]

Every Day Memorial Day

Thank you to every person who has ever served in America's Armed Forces. You have made us the Land of the Free and You are the Brave. May God bless you for all you have done for America.

 

[bamagirl]

In Loving Memory of
Jason Jordan who gave the ultimate sacrifice for his country
Jason was from Elba,Alabama and a member of the 101st Airborn division 1st Battalion,187th Infantry Regiment,from Ft Campbell Ky.
Jason Died In Iraq on July 20th.


Words to Taps
(Note: there are no "official" words to Taps
below are the most popular.)

Day is done,
gone the sun,
From the hills,
from the lake,
From the skies.
All is well,
safely rest,
God is nigh.
Go to sleep,
peaceful sleep,
May the soldier
or sailor,
God keep.
On the land
or the deep,
Safe in sleep.

Love, good night,
Must thou go,
When the day,
And the night
Need thee so?
All is well.
Speedeth all
To their rest.

Fades the light;
And afar
Goeth day,
And the stars
Shineth bright,
Fare thee well;
Day has gone,
Night is on.

Thanks and praise,
For our days,
'Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
'Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.

 

[My Erotic Tail]

Memorial Day

Memorial
Day
Weekend

Today is the day we Honor the soldiers
who have given they're lives for us to have
the rights and freedom we exercise everyday.
The ones who have fought and whom are
still fighting. A day set aside to Honor our
Heros and soldiers of past and present.

I personally thank the U.S. Forces for they're
ultimate sacrifice. Our country is what is today
thanks to so many. I am Honored to be an
American...and support our troops.

A non-erotic soldier's tale by Art
Where Eagle's Dare
And the Poem
Eagle's Cry
that started this thread that
supports and encourages our troops and
homeland countrymen/women.


Thanks to All who have and are serving
our country as well as the Allies who have
given so much for our freedom. Thanks Art

Have a good = MEMORIAL DAY

 

[My Erotic Tail]

"I Do!!"

Take a man and put him alone,
Put him twelve thousand miles from home.
Empty his heart of all but blood,
Make him live in sweat and mud.
This is the life I have to live,
And my soul to the devil I give.
You have your parties and drink your beer,
While young men are dying here.
You paint your signs and have your fun,
Then refuse to use your gun.
There is nothing else for you to do,
Then I'm suppose to die for you.
There is one thing that you don't know,
And that's where I think you should go.
I'm already here and it's to late.
I'll hate you till the day I die,
You made me hear my buddy cry.
I saw his leg and his blood shed,
Then I heard them say, "This one's dead".
It was a large price for him to pay,
To let you live another day.
He had the guts to fight and die,
To keep the freedom you live by.
By dying your life he buys,
But who gives a damn if a Marine dies.


Found in a dead Marines pocket.
Quang Tri Province, Vietnam, June 6, 1969

 

[My Erotic Tail]

THESE OLD VETS....
D.H. Newton.. GySgt USMC
(Okinawa A-1-29)



It's quiet around the wards tonight
Silently , these old vets, put up the good fight.
If only we had more time to spend with them
Perhaps sit a spell and hold an old hand so thin
A hand that once carried a rifle with bayonet attached.
Or perhaps held the rudder, on a fast moving landing craft.
Or, standing at the plane's open door, guided a "fifty"
As it fired on enemy planes flying by,
So many years ago when B-17's did fill the sky.
His eyes now seem to be dull and slightly glazed,
But once were bright blue when on Suribachi
Old Glory he helped raise.
He doesn't ask for much
Just a soft kind touch
Each of these old vets, are like pages from an old
History book
Just laying on the living room table, just waiting
For some one to take a look
The sounds they make now are different from the
Ones of their youth
When on a sandy beach, they fought hand and tooth
Where in darkness you hear now a moan or two
Try to listen, as if it were a far away lost and happy tune.
That now in his lonely dreams, he trys to remember
When once on the cold North Atlantic he was a crew member.
On that old oil tanker "North To Murmansk"
Sit, hold his hand, is that so much to ask?
Those legs that no more move, and seem so fragile and unbehaved
Once ran, and dodged and climbed and fought
In some far away cave.
Sit a spell, and with a damp cloth his forehead soothe
Where now it's topped with grey, blonde curls once grew.
Don't be afraid,
Hug 'em, his dues have been paid
His shoulders now seem sagged and losely hide
On those same shoulders a wounded comrade did ride
When in early morn, he slips back to his roots,
Stand erect and snap him his final salute
Sounds of Tattoo
By
Dhn

 

[bamagirl]

Mrs Alberta Martin Died yesterday on Memorial day,May 31,2004 at approximatly 12:30 pm.
Mrs Alberta was the last living confedarate widow.
I had the pleasure of knowing this sweet lady and learned more from her than any books could ever teach me.
Rest in Peace Miz Alberta and know you were loved.


http://lastconfederatewidow.com/