It is the Soldier
Father Dennis Edward O’Brien
It is the Soldier,
not the reporter, who has given us freedom of press.
It is the Soldier,
not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the Soldier,
not the campus organizer, who gives us freedom to demonstrate.
It is the Soldier
who salutes the flag,
who serves beneath the flag,
and whose coffin is draped by the flag,
who allows the protester to burn the flag.
A healthy and hearty “thank you” to all of you who have sacrificed for this country by performing the ultimate act of self-awareness and “community service.” You are appreciated and deeply thanked.
I have been where the Soldiers, Marines, Navy are now and may God Bless you all.
The Snooper Report. Join us as we Take Our Country Back.
Sic vis pacem para bellum
[...] No so today. For today, we know better. We have seen thousands give the last full measure, and we have stood in awe of the heroism, professionalism and high character that are emblematic of the U.S. military. And those must be revered for as long as the Republic shall stand. [END]
Have you thanked a soldier lately
For everything they've done?
For all their work and sacrifice;
For battles lost or won?
Have you ever passed a moment in quiet solitude?
Thinking of a way to show support and gratitude?
What about two simple words?
Remember those that came before us,
and those that stand with us today,
And to those whose time is not yet here,
I have two words to say -
You have the Heart to stand and fight.
The Soul to stand for what is right.
You stand for Freedom, day and night.
For all this and more -
Two simple words you may not hear enough
When the good is hard to see, or the battle is getting rough.
Although your heart may break, yet and still you remain tough.
For all that and more -
And though I might not know your name,
We're Red, White and Blue... family the same.
You serve our country willingly, protect freedom without fail.
Compared your brave actions, these words may seem a little pale.
But still... for everything you are, and everything you do
I'd like to say two simple words -
The monuments in Washington all seemed false in the cool morning mist. They were big and white and extravagant, yet the tourists cheapened them somehow as they gawked, took photos, and scurried to the next place on their list of things to see. Their attention seemed to focus on what things were rather than why they were. The scene was a poor example of Americana. Even Honest Abe seemed to frown from his throne. Of all the walls of stone only one seemed real.
This wall's long black marble slices into the ground. On it are engraved fifty-eight thousand American names from an undeclared war that no one wants to remember in the jungles of a country half a globe away. There are no ornate scrolls or stenciled directions, no fancy faded pieces of parchment, no self-serving sentiments, just names.
There's also a statue some distance away. Three bronze soldiers stare into the wall, waiting for word of their fellow soldiers, or perhaps morning their loss. The soldiers don't talk; they simply stare. They are all just boys, most of them only six years older than I was then: nineteen.
Under the statue-soldier's gaze, an elderly man lagged behind a tour at the wall. He caressed it and knelt to leave a single rose at its based. He sobbed. He had difficulty standing up. A nearby park attendant helped him and asked, "One of yours, sir?" The old man shook his head and replied, "Not just one of them. All of them."
A Soldier Died Today
JUST A COMMON SOLDIER
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 Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away, And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today.
He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife, For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.
Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way, And the world won't note his passing, though 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 their whole 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 A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife, Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?
A politician's stipend and the style in which he lives Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that 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 was so long ago, That the old Bills of our Country 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 want a politician with his ever-shifting stand?
Or would you prefer 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 a paper that would say,
OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, FOR A SOLDIER DIED TODAY.
Lord who grants salvation to kings and dominion to rulers, Whose kingdom is a kingdom spanning all eternities; Who places a road in the sea and a path in the mighty waters - may you bless protect the military of these United States of America, may they complete their mission quickly, and return home safely.
May you give strength to the doctor's treating the wounded, and provide comfort to those who have lost loved ones.
May the President, the Vice President, and all the constituted officers of government of this land make the correct decisions to protect our heroes lives and bring them home in victory . May our elected officials execute their responsibilities with intelligence, honor and compassion.
And may these United States continue to be the land of the free and the home of the brave.
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The deliberations of the Constitutional Convention of 1787 were held in strict secrecy. Consequently, anxious citizens gathered outside Independence Hall when the proceedings ended in order to learn what had been produced behind closed doors. The answer was provided immediately. A Mrs. Powel of Philadelphia asked Benjamin Franklin, "Well, Doctor, what have we got, a republic or a monarchy?" With no hesitation whatsoever, Franklin responded, "A republic, if you can keep it."
[...] And then as our day closed down at Capital Hill, the news that 13 of America's finest had been massacred in the first successful terrorist attack on our soil since 9/11/01. 13 dead, numerous others wounded, because of the PC status that makes people afraid to say the truth. We are at war with Islam! They came to us and attacked us on our own soil. The declared jihad (holy war) against us. Their bible, the Koran, tells them that they are to kill us infidels if we do not convert. They are not a religion of peace as the politically correct crowd would have you believe. [...]