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Theresa
Lux Mihi Deus


Joined: 17 Jun 2001
Posts: 27256
Location: United States of America

PostThu May 13, 2004 10:32 pm    Good Things

The average age of the military man is 19 years ....

He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm howitzer. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must. He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job. He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he should have in his short lifetime.

He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed. He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.
He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding. Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood. And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.



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Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with our scars


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Theresa
Lux Mihi Deus


Joined: 17 Jun 2001
Posts: 27256
Location: United States of America

PostTue May 25, 2004 2:17 pm    

Soldier's Last Letter Lyrics
Artist(Band):George Jones
(Print the Lyrics)


Soldier's Last Letter Lyrics



Written by Redd Stewart and Ernest Tubb
(As performed by George Jones)

When the postman delivered the letter
Well, it filled her old heart full of joy
But she din't know 'til she read the inside
It was the last one from her darling boy

"Dear Mom," was the way that it started
"I miss you so much," it went on
"And, Mom, I didn't know that I loved you so
But I'll prove it when this war is won"

"I'm writing this down in a trench, Mom
So don't scold if it isn't so neat
For you know as you did, when I was a kid
And would come home with mud on my feet"

"Well, the captain just gave us our orders
And mom we will carry them through
I'll finish this letter the first chance I get
But for now I'll just say I love you"

Then the mother's old hands began to tremble
As she fought against tears in her eyes
For they came unashamed, there was no name
And she knew that her darlin' had died

That night as she knelt down by her bedside
She prayed, "Lord above, hear my plea
Protect all the sons who are fighting tonight
And dear God keep America free"



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Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with our scars


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Leo Wyatt
Sweetest Angel


Joined: 25 Feb 2004
Posts: 19045
Location: Investigating A Crime Scene. What did Quark do this time?

PostTue May 25, 2004 2:55 pm    

That brings tears to my eyes. God Bless America

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Puck
The Texan


Joined: 05 Jan 2004
Posts: 5596

PostTue May 25, 2004 5:37 pm    

Well, this song is kinda like Theresa's, but not exactly...anyhow, thought I would share:

Quote:
John Michael Montgomery Letters From Home Lyrics



My Dear Son, it is almost June,
I hope this letter catches up to you, and finds you well
Its been dry but they�re calling for rain,
And everything's the same ol� same in Johnsonville
Your stubborn 'ol Daddy ain�t said too much,
But I�m sure you know he sends his love,
And she goes on,
In a letter from home

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain�t scared and our boots ain�t muddy, and they all laugh,
Like there�s something funny bout� the way I talk,
When I say: "Mama sends her best y�all"
I fold it up an' put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an' get back to work
An' it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home

My Dearest Love, its almost dawn
I�ve been lying here all night long wondering where you might be
I saw your Mama and I showed her the ring
Man on the television said something so I couldn�t sleep
But I�ll be all right, I�m just missing you
An' this is me kissing you
XX�s and OO�s,
In a letter from home

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain�t scared and our boots ain�t muddy, and they all laugh,
'Cause she calls me "Honey", but they take it hard,
'Cause I don�t read the good parts
I fold it up an' put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an' get back to work
An' it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home

Dear Son, I know I ain�t written,
But sittin' here tonight, alone in the kitchen, it occurs to me,
I might not have said, so I�ll say it now
Son, you make me proud

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain�t scared and our boots ain�t muddy, but no one laughs,
'Cause there ain�t nothing funny when a soldier cries
An' I just wipe me eyes
I fold it up an' put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an' get back to work
An' it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home




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Theresa
Lux Mihi Deus


Joined: 17 Jun 2001
Posts: 27256
Location: United States of America

PostWed May 26, 2004 8:47 pm    

Quote:
What is an American?

Micheal Brown

What is an American? An American is not delineated by a particular skin color or way of life. He is a person from many places, with many shades of skin; of different sizes and varied energies. He has a masters degree, or he may never have finished high school. He may drive an expensive automobile, or perhaps he relies on two mules to carve his living out of the earth. But regardless of what he is, lacing the different physical features together is a bond of strength in tradition which exemplifies the American way; a way which opens the doors of opportunity to all peoples who may knock upon them. An American has a spirit which was born when the bells tolled of independence, and which has released the adrenalin of his nation time and time again when its existence was threatened by an aggressor.

An American does not view armed conflict as a means of getting what he wants, but rather as a means of protecting what he has. He is one who loves the very concept of peace for all nations, but will not hesitate to fight on the shores of others if required to protect his own. An American sees the knowledge of experience in his past, feels pride in the accomplishments of the present, and has hope for the future of the world, even when others would view the days to come with dismay. But a realistic American finds no guarantee of freedom or security in the future, solely because he has always had it in the past.

An American recognizes the faults of his system and seeks to correct them through a process unknown to many nations. A process which does not promise absolute perfection, but one which allows for peaceful change, if change is needed. That process is democracy, and an American holds that word so dear, that he stands ready at a moment's notice to lay down his life for its perpetuation.

An American finds nothing at all unusual about getting cold chills when his flag passes in review, for his flag has always been a source of inspiration; when the smoke cleared over Fort McHenry, when its sheen was reflected on the sands of Iwo Jima, and when the colors glistened on the side of the craft which took the first man to the moon. An American sees nothing strange about getting a lump in his throat when the national anthem is played, or weeping, unashamed, when taps is played for one who paid the ultimate price for his freedom. He realizes that the only thing that exceeds that price is the freedom itself. An American never forgets the indebtedness he has because of that sacrifice, for without it, his freedom would only be an unreachable concept in some philosopher's mind.

A true American is the essence of pride in a way of life. What is an American you say?

He is fortunate.






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Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with our scars


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Theresa
Lux Mihi Deus


Joined: 17 Jun 2001
Posts: 27256
Location: United States of America

PostFri May 28, 2004 11:04 am    




Thought it was cute,





(wanted to see if it would work)



-------signature-------

Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with our scars


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Theresa
Lux Mihi Deus


Joined: 17 Jun 2001
Posts: 27256
Location: United States of America

PostMon Jun 14, 2004 5:26 pm    

America the Beautiful
Words by Katharine Lee Bates,
Melody by Samuel Ward

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for pilgrim feet
Whose stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare of freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife.
Who more than self their country loved
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness
And every gain divine!

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for halcyon skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the enameled plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till souls wax fair as earth and air
And music-hearted sea!

O beautiful for pilgrims feet,
Whose stem impassioned stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till paths be wrought through
wilds of thought
By pilgrim foot and knee!

O beautiful for glory-tale
Of liberating strife
When once and twice,
for man's avail
Men lavished precious life!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till selfish gain no longer stain
The banner of the free!

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till nobler men keep once again
Thy whiter jubilee!



-------signature-------

Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with our scars


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