OT: Thank you...
Kate in MI
have served, whose parents, children or other family members have served.
Our military families certainly pay a tremendous price so that when we go to
sleep at night -- we know we are safe. So that our children will grow up
without oppression. Without hearing the sounds of bombs or gunfire.
Without fear.
Clearly -- that blanket of security is much like a quilt. Like patchwork -
this charm quilt is the result of the contribution of many many different
individuals.
Thank you to each and every one of you and the families that share you with
our nation.
--
Kate in MI
http://community.webshots.com/user/K_Groves
Ginger in CA
I thank my father for serving, a Pearl Harbor survivor.
I thank my nephew for serving.
Ginger in CA
dealer83
>
> - Show quoted text -
Thank you Kate. My husband served in the Viet Nam war and our Army
son has been to Iraq twice, Afghanistan once, the Kosovo war, and in
the Sinai. It seems we never learn from history and my heart felt
thanks go out to our young soldiers who put their life on the line
everyday for us. Donna
Sunny
brightest? My father never recovered from WWII. We saw the results of
that war until the day he died, a broken and ruined man. My cousin
came back from Vietnam with the same kinds of wounds. So far as I
know, he has not lived with inner peace since 1967. All of you who
have loved ones serving now, thank them for me. And may we all pray
for peace in our lives.
Sunny
Sandy E
http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm
In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
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.
````
Bless them; bless you all.
R/Sandy
On 11/11/09 12:43 PM, in article hdf0kb$d05$1...@news.albasani.net, "Kate in
Edna Pearl
"Sandy E" <el...@tx.rr.com> wrote in message
news:C720A88B.3C285%el...@tx.rr.com...
Lizzy Taylor
> Howdy!
>
>
> http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm
>
> In Flanders Fields
> By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
> Canadian Army
>
> 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.
>
> ````
>
> Bless them; bless you all.
When driving through Europe, in particular Northern France and much of
Belgium small signs to Military Cemeteries are often seen. We try to
stop at some of these and pay our respects. Some are quite small and
intimate, some are very large (such as the US cemeteries in Normandy &
Lorraine). All of them bring tears to the eyes when you see how the
graves there and also how young many of these men were when scythed down
by war. Most of the cemeteries (and memorial stones in civic
cemeteries) are maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (
http://www.cwgc.org/default.asp ) and the American Battle Monuments
Commission ( http://www.abmc.gov/cemeteries/cemeteries/no.php ) and they
are immaculate, showing the respect due to these many, many who bought
our freedom with their actions and lives.
As the poem below says: We will remember them.
Verse 4 in particular is used in the UK Act of Rememberance each November.
Lizzy
For the Fallen by Laurence Binyon (1869 - 1943)
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.