November 11, Please observe it.

[Expertise]

I am posting this today since I have more important things to do tomorrow.

Tomorrow is November 11. Rememberance Day in Canada, Veterans Day (I believe) in the US. It is a tremendously important day to me. It is a day to honour our countries war dead and those who served.

I feel very strongly that considering THEIR sacrificies the least we can do is spare a few moments to honor their memory.

I will not be on parade tomorrow although I would not miss the ceremony. I marched last year, in my grandfathers place, as I am allowed to do as a former member of the Forces and a Royal Canadian Legion member. It proved to be a little too emotional for me, so I will attend as a civilian this year.

I strongly encourage you to participate in the Rememberance Day/Veterans Day ceremony nearest you or at least pause for a few moments of reflection in their memory.

I will leave you with the following piece of poetry. It was written in the spring of 1915 near the Ypres salient by Maj. John McCrae a surgeon attached to the 1st Canadian Field Artllery Brigade. He wrote it soon after the death, by an enemy shell, of his former student and friend Lt. Alexis Helmer.



In Flanders Fields

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

 

[Cheyenne]

The Veterans Day parade was canceled here due to lack of veterans available to hold the parade and sadly, I think also due to lack of interest. The WWII vets, the tradtional parade participants, are getting old and having more difficulty with parades at their age.

Expertise, you're correct. We should remember and honor our Vets. On their holiday, and also every day of the year. We take them too much for granted.

Freedom isn't a gift- it is earned by the blood of many.

 

[forgetunome]

Thanks for the reminder Expertise! It is a day that all our veterans deserve! So little thanks is given to our men and women who have fought the good fight to preserve our freedom both in the U.S. and Canada among other places. I know I for one do appreciate and will stand at attention when they play our national anthem!

Beautiful poem! Thanks for sharing!

My hats off to all our Vets everywhere! *SMOOCH*

 

[Juliangel]

Standing and saying Thank You

Wonderful post sugar and beautiful poem.

http://www.flags.net/elements/small_gifs/CANA001.GIF http://www.flags.net/elements/small_gifs/UNST001.GIF

 

[Sparky Kronkite]

As a Vet myself.....

of course, remembrance for all those who have served to protect "the Free World" and those who serve in doing so now.

However.....

I have never, least not in my short life, experienced any, "personally conveyance, or congratulatory thoughts, or even the day off."

Yet. Someday - maybe.

But for me - that doesn't really matter. I wish better for other Vets.

I hope all Vets everywhere, at the very least, congratulate "each other," - high fives, pats on the back, a toast or two (maybe three?) and kick back and bask in the glory of having served, having dedicated a piece of there lives (with thoughts of course for those who actually gave their lives) to aid in protecting our freedoms.

And hopefully, hopefully, many others - will convey their well wishes too.

Have a fine Rememberance Day.

 

[CW]

I will leave you with the following piece of poetry. It was written in the spring of 1915 near the Ypres salient by Maj. John McCrae a surgeon attached to the 1st Canadian Field Artllery Brigade. He wrote it soon after the death, by an enemy shell, of his former student and friend Lt. Alexis Helmer.



In Flanders Fields

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

I still get goosebumps everytime I read this and a catch in my throat as well,,, so,,,

To all veterans, near or far,
I say, simply, thank you.
To those of you who have opted to carry the torch,
I also say, simply and whole heartedly, thank you.

 

[Ambrosious]

(© 1997) by: Dennis L. Hodo



I'll See You Later Brother
Very many years passed, and I could not forget,
a man named Rivera, I was blessed to have met.
We met in the jungle, I was new and scared stiff,
He taught me survival, on those combat Rif's.

We lived in the jungle, with the heat, rain and mud,
when friends were wounded, we even shared our blood.
We carried food and water, we slept on the ground,
we talked of "the world", when breaks came around.
We guarded one another, all the days and nights,
we never even thought about, brown, black or white.
We shared our anger, our dreams and our fears,
and when one of us was lost, we never came to tears.

All this time has passed, and I still hear him say,
"Hey man," like he did, almost every single day.
I don't know why, but I never got his photograph,
yet a picture in my mind, followed all along my path.
I could see that giant grin, the dark shining eyes,
and hear the kind words, for all the poor new guys.
There were others with us, men that we both knew,
all barely twenty, hardly knowing what to do.
When the shooting started, we protected one another,
no one ever questioned, why I called you brother.

The fighting started often, with a loud sudden burst,
we learned so much of dying, mankind at his worst.

Most of us came home, when our long year was done,
but some of us didn't, and brother you were one.
My memories never stopped, they never knew borders.
I was the last you spoke to, except for giving orders,
I remembered every man, that died there for the cause,
but every day your memory, always gave me pause.

Some days once or twice, and other days much more,
I woke up every night, from the sounds of the war.
I went to college, got married, and even had a kid,
but few things ever got to me, like all that did.

I tried so many ways, to get it all blocked out,
but I never found anything, it never came about.
So after many years, I looked it in the face,
I never could outrun it, I'd never win the race.
I took a trip the other day, across this big land,
I came to your grave my friend, to visit a good man.
I had to come and tell you, that I never will forget,
I'll never know those ties again, I still haven't yet.
I had to take the trip, I had to come and see you,
it was just something, I always knew I had to do.
It was such a constant feeling, it would never go away,
until I made the trip, that I made the other day.

I know that you watched us, from a much better place,
when your family and I, did finally embrace.

I didn't get to meet, your father or your mother,
the family calls me family, your brother calls me brother.
They know it means a lot, because it means a lot to them,
but few will ever know, how it is where we have been.

I know you're very proud, of the children that we bore,
I want to let them know, the truth about our war.
Television, radio, and the papers say we lost,
they like to talk about, all the dollars that it cost.
The movies have no limit, to the tickets they can sell,
showing us coming home, and going straight to hell.
I wish that they could see, the bigger point of view,
the eternal bond of friendship, there is with me and you.

We counted on each other, like few people ever can,
and I know that forever, you will always be "a good man."
We will stand-down again someday, for a very long time,
we will R&R forever friend, and it won't cost a dime.
There will not be any leeches, or any of that rain,
there won't be any rifles, or bullets causing pain.
We'll look down together, and hope with all our might,
that the people of the future, can see that we were right.
We cared about the children, the peasants and the poor,
we went to fight their fight, and to open up the door.
We went to bring them freedom, and basic human rights,
but others were afraid, that they might have to fight.

I remember how it was, in this very privileged land,
there were so very few, brave enough to take a stand.
To go to the jungle, and to try to stop the wrong,
will our people ever see, why does it take so long?
The politicians failed us, and the dodgers we forgave,
then we just abandoned, all those we tried to save.
All the vet's everywhere, bowed their heads in shame,
most of them today, still bow their heads the same.

There are names on a wall, that mean so much to us,
because we know, they were people we could trust.
You gave your life, so that others could survive,
like me and many others, that today are still alive.

I never could forget, and today I do know why,
I need someday to find a way, to sit down and cry.
I never have, I guess the war just made us tough,
but when I do I'll cry, until I know it is enough.


I will always try my best, to get through to the kids,
what a great man you are, the important things you did.
I will come again to see you friend, here at your grave,
I'll do something good, with this life that you saved.
Let me tell you one thing, about coming here my friend,
after all these years, I can finally sleep again.
I'll never lose sight, of how we knew one another,
I never will forget, I'll see you later brother.

 

[Juliangel]

Ambrosious

That is one I have never read before. Getting the tissues now to dry my eyes.

 

[TN_Vixen]

Ambrose

excellent! Juli, pass those tissues. sniff.

 

[CW]

WOW!!! Ambrose,,, just plain old WOW!!!
I'd not read that one either,,,

Thank you.

 

[CelestialBody]

 

[Ambrosious]

If anyone finds the poem "For today a soldier passed away" let me know. I've been looking for awhile. I think it was a newspaper article or something similar.

 

[Ambrosious]

Found it!

Editor's note: The following is reprinted from the American Legion Magazine.

He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast, And he sat around the Legion telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,

In his exploits with his buddies, they were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors his tales became a joke,

All his buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.

But we''ll hear his tales no longer, for ol' Bob has passed away,

And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died 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 a family, quietly going his way,

And the world won't note his passing, 'tho a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth their bodies lie in state,

While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.

Papers 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 promise and cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow who in time of war and strife,

Goes off 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 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 is so long ago, That our Bobs and Jims and Johnnys went to battle, but we know,

It was not the politicians with their compromise and ploys,

Who won for us the freedom that our 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 soldier who has sworn to defend,

His home, his kin and country and would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin,

But his presence should remind us we may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict then we find the soldier's part,

Is to clean up all the troubles that the 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 ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline in the paper that might say:

Our country is in mourning, for a soldier died today.

 

[Svedish_Chef]

In Australia too... the Eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month...

A Quiet Minute at 11am please...

 

[Expertise]

A PS. to my fellow canadians

If nothing else, please buy and wear a poppie.

It is such a small thing, that means so much.

 

[KillerMuffin]

I am a veteran as well, though I don't particularly feel like one.

The problem with our current lack of interest by our vets is the "too little, too late" school of thought. My father in law espouses it the best. He is a Vietnam Vet, he was one of the helicopter pilots who pulled hundreds of our veterans out of hot situations involving a plethora of flying bullets and perhaps some surface to air ordanance.

Upon returning home with memories of suffering and death from over there, he isn't welcomed, or even quietly ignored. He is reviled and hated. He is called babykiller, he is spat upon, he is ordered out of civilian establishments, his service to the country is not only mocked but makes him a source of distrust and disgust. This attitude prevailed well into the 80s in our locale, until Oliver Stone made the Vietnam war, and sympathizing with veterans fashionable.

Suddenly everyone has sympathy and words of praise for the veterans of vietnam, some of which still suffer tremendously from what they experienced over there. The effort put out seems false and an attempt to gloss over past bigotry against the veterans. He was asked to march in his local veterans parade, along with some of his friends. The all laughed in the face of the chairwoman who asked them. The same woman who threw things at them when they came home. Small wonder they think it's nothing but bullshit.

Yes, they still hate Hanoi Jane Fonda.

My husband thinks it's just as ridiculous, but only because he is highly antisocial, despite his gregariousness. He doesn't think they are appreciating vets, he thinks they are trying to save face from Vietnam. When he was 5 his daddy came home from nam. His principal physically abused him, always referring to him as the son of a babykiller.

 

[Expertise]

Ambrosius has posted some wonderful prose.

I will take the opportunity to post a couple of songs popular within my Regiment especially on 11 November that to me approach the beauty of poetry. I would preface them by saying that my Regiment was blessed/cursed with a pile of Newfs.

Both of these speak to the sorrow and futility of war

Recruiting Sergeant

Two recruiting segeants came to the CLB,
For the sons of the merchants to join the Blue Puttees
So all hands enlisted, five hundred young men ...
Enlist you Newfoundlanders and come follow me

They crossed the broad Atlantic in the brave Florizel
And on the sands of Souvla they entered in to hell
Upon those bloody beaches the first of them fell...

Chorus
So its over the mountains, and over the sea
Come you brave Newfoundlanders and join the Blue Putees
You'll fight the Hun in Flanders, and at Gallipoli
Enlist you Newfoundlanders and come follow me

Then the call came from London, for the last July drive
To the trenches with the Regiment, prepare yourselves to die
At the roll call next morning, just a handful survived
Enlist you Newfoundlanders and come follow me

Chorus

The stone men on Water Street still cry for the day
When the pride of the city went marching away
A thousand men slaughtered, to hear the King say
Enlist you Newfoundlanders and come follow me

Chorus



The Green Fields Of France

Well, how'd you do, Private Willie McBride,
D'you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
I'll rest for a while in the warm summer sun.
I've been walking all day. Lord i'm nearly done.
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the Great Fallen in 1916
I hope you died quick and I hope you died "clean"
Or Willie McBride was it slow and obscene

Chorus
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er ye as they lowered ye down?
Did the bugles sing "The Last Post" in chorus?
Did the pipes play the "Flowers of the Forest"

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane
In an old photograph, torn tattered and stained
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame

Chorus

Well the sun's shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently, to make red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas, no barbed wire, theres no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard its still "no mans land"
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To mans blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned

Chorus

And I can't help but wonder now, Willie McBride
Do all those who lie here Know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "the cause"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame,
The Killing the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride its all happened again

Chorus

[Edited by Expertise on 11-10-2000 at 10:00 AM]

 

[CelestialBody]

 

[KillerMuffin]

In rememberance of the sailors of the USS Cole and others who've died while serving

The Final Inspection

The sailor stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you sailor
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"

The sailor squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes,
God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here,
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
So if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the sailor waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, you sailor,
You've borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

 

[Vi]

I first want to say Thank You to all of the Vets. You are the ones, honored or not, that makes our country free. I don't remember Viet Nam, except for the movies and books. World War II, The Great War, Korea, those are things I have read about in history books and heard some of my older relatives talk about. I guess I don't know very much at all about the pain of a loved one going to those wars, dieing, being maimed, becoming prisoners, or the glory of their return. This is what I do know.
A young girl was so proud of her big brother. He had taken on the responsibility of raising her, teaching her good from bad, and pointing to the future. You see, her parents were very angry with each other and spent most of their time fighting or drinking. The father spent time with the boy, helping him build race cars, and the young girl was ignored, even though she tried to help do things. The big brother soon joined the Army and was so handsome in his uniform and gave his little sister someone to be so proud of. He was going to serve his country, and earn an education at the same time and then make sure that she too would go to college. One day a letter arrived that the big brother was going to help another country that was being harrassed, just watch over things a little. It was called Desert Shield. The 13 year old girl watched the airplane with her big brother disappear into the morning sky, she was so proud of him. He sent letters almost every day telling of the different way people lived in this distant land, how he missed the green of his native Indiana, how he would change things when he got home. He also mentioned that things were a little worse then before and he felt more tension all the time. He sent a home made card to his little sister on her 14th birthday, she was so proud. One night the TV showed bright lights and much confusion. Many high ranking officials explained that the US had taken the next step to insure peace to this troubled land. Desert Storm, it was called. The young girl understood what was happening and that her big brother was going to help all of these poor people have a better life when this was over. She was so proud. His letters were shorter now, and not as often, and he was more to the point, but was sure that this would all be over soon. The 14 year old girl was doing homework when there was a knock on the door of her house. Her dad went to the door, with the girl close behind, they didn't get much company, so this was unusual. There were 3 very distinctive looking gentelmen standing at the door, in very smart looking uniforms. One held a piece of paper and after verifying kinship stated that he was sorry to inform the family of the loose of their son in the line of duty, and that paper work and personal articles would soon arrive.
No one knew why the heicopter went down, some said it was a enemy rocket, some say it was freindly fire. The young girl only knew one thing, her big brother, her personel hero, would not be coming home. His promises to her would not be kept. The next week a shiny casket was buried, but the young girl decided to not let her big brothers dreams be buried with it. He was still her hero, but now she was sharing him with the others he had been so proud to try and help. She only hoped that they were as proud of him as she was.
Today, almost 9 years later, as I stood at a sunrise flag raising ceremony, wearing my big brothers uniform shirt and tears streaming down my face, I am so proud of all those that have served our great country and I am so proud to have shared my big brother with the world. God Bless you all. Vi

 

[Ambrosious]

I cannot express the emotion that your post evoked Vi. Thank you from a grateful American, and from a grateful country.

 

[Silverlily]

I find myself a little lost for words right now. My family has a long history of military service from grandfathers to my father to my brother and I.

There is more to today than the veterans, there is also the families, as Vi has pointed out. My father was stationed in the Sinai penninsula during the mid-80's. I watched my mother pace the floor many nights when no letter arrived. This was always due to postal problems, but she could never be certain. My father only came home twice during that tour, both times to escort a body home.

God bless every man and woman who has ever taken arms to defend their countries. And God bless every mother, father, husband, wife, and sibling who waited, prayed, and worried for their uniformed family members. They too have paid a price.

 

[CW]

Vi,

Thank you so very much for sharing that story of yours. It has been quite awhile since I have shed tears at reading a story. And now, I can't quite seem to stop them. I can not even begin to understand the emotions that you must have gone thru. And saying that I am sorry for your loss sounds so hollow all in all. So, if you would, please, the next time you talk with your brother, tell him thanks.

CW

 

[norm1]

Vi,

We have many strange threads on here so may I thank you for raising a thread that allows dignity and gratitude to be expressed in such a sincere way. The replies you have received to date are full of both those qualities and more.

I am old enough to have been born during the 2nd World War in a hospital that was being bombed at the time I came into the world. My mother did not have a husband to hold her hand; at that time he had a more important job to do. That he and his friends, along with our friends the Americans, Canadians, and many other nationalities did that job, often at a dreadful cost to themselves and their families, is the reason we have the freedom to live our lives the way we wish to.

I have visited the Cemetaries in Northern France and can only say that they are a magnificent tribute to those who gave their most precious possession for us. If any of you have the opportunity to do so then please do. What you will you will experience will stay with you for the rest of your life. To stop what we are doing for 2 minutes at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month is the very least we can do to say our thanks.

Let us all do so.

 

[Earthmuffin]

Hoorrruuuaagghh!!

Or however you spell the sound of motivated men and women. Thank you all for the beautiful postings. I will remember as I ready those of my Residents who can participate in tomorrow's ceremonies.

To absent fellows *clink*.

*sniffle*