Thank you

[DE_Six]

http://canada.kos.net/poppytop.gif

Lest we forget

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.

- John McCrae

[Vance]

Yes...


http://www.e2cweb.com/images_art/american%20flag.jpg

[Clay]

Lest we forget

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.

- John McCrae
amen

[usa320]

God Bless those that have made the ultimate sacrifice for freedom and justice. Their devotion and professionalism will not be forgotten.

[Vance]

Only the dead have seen the end of war.

[duck]

Sting: Children's Crusade

Children's Crusade

Young men, soldiers, Nineteen Fourteen
Marching through countries they'd never seen
Virgins with rifles, a game of charades
All for a Children's Crusade

Pawns in the game are not victims of chance
Strewn on the fields of Belgium and France
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed

The children of England would never be slaves
They're trapped on the wire and dying in waves
The flower of England face down in the mud
And stained in the blood of a whole generation

Corpulent generals safe behind lines
History's lessons drowned in red wine
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
All for a Children's Crusade

The children of England would never be slaves
They're trapped on the wire and dying in waves
The flower of England face down in the mud
And stained in the blood of a whole generation

Midnight in Soho, Nineteen Eighty-four
Fixing in doorways, opium slaves
Poppies for young men, such bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
All for a Children's Crusade

[wholagun]

In Poland there is a saying about those who died in battle when fighting for freedom

For Your Freedom and Ours.

[Royal]

They shall not grow old as we who 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.

Aye, we will remember them

When you go home
Tell them of us and say,
For your tomorrow
We gave our today.

Thank you

[WARPIG]

I give thanks to all warriors. We should all be thankful that the world is filled with those who will fight on our behalf.
Warriors fight for the safety and freedom of their loved ones, they fight because their countrymen ask them to. Often, without knowing, they fight for those who despise, and hate them too.
Bless those who risk harm so that others may not.. pity those who do not honor them.
As a US soldier I honored those who came before me yesterday. Today I wish to thank God for those who I serve with today.
I am thankful for all soldiers, sailors, warriors. For those who fight with me and for those whom I fight against.. for it would be a sad, horrible world indeed, if those whom I fought were not ..........warriors.

[Smintjes]

The Pogues - And the Band Played Waltzing Mathilda

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
from the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I walzed my Mathilda all over

Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling cos there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And sent me away to the war

And the band played walzing mathilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.

Jonny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Austraila.

But the band played Walzing Mathilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again.

Now, those who were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for then weary weaks I kept myself alive
But around me the corpses piled higher

Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And I woke up in my hospital bed
I saw what it had done, Christ, I wish I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying

For I'll go no more waltzing Mathilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Mathilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home, to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla


And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was noone there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity


And the band played Walzing Mathilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and they stared
Then turned all their faces away.

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing the dreams of past glory
The silly old men - all bent stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, 'what are they marching for ?'
And I ask myself the same question

And the band played Waltzing Mathilda
And the old men answer to call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all


Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda
Who'll come a-waltzing Mathilda with me ?
And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the blue sky
Who'll come a-waltzing Mathilda with me ?

[NcDeuce]

Our Loss


They came when they were called,
They asked for little and received less.
They fought for honor and truth,
In a world in which there was precious little.
We have been made better for their sacrifice
And yet we are poorer by their passing.
Ultimately in spite of their lost lives,
We must recognize that the greatest loss lies with us;
For we have been stripped of their lives and their gifts.
Of all the children they will never father,
of the students they will never tutor,
of the truth they will never uncover,
of the dreams they had that no mortal will ever know,
of the best of humanity that they can never again be.

We cannot remember them as well as we should,
We will never remember them as well as we do now.
Alas, we barely knew them at all.
But they died in out stead,
And if there is one thing we should know,
one thing we must take from this desolate moment;
it is that they could have been us,
and they must be us.
We must live for them.
We must try to achieve the promise that was embodied their lives,
before they were so nobly cast aside for our sake.
This is the only way
we can shoulder this otherwise unbearable debt.
By their selfless sacrifice they have shown
that this is how they would have had it,
had they by some accident of fate
been left as the living
and not we.

By Irvine Bruce

[NcDeuce]

"It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press."

"It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech."

"It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us freedom to demonstrate."

"It is the soldier, who saluted the Flag, who serves beneath the Flag and whose coffin is draped by the Flag, who allows the protester to burn the Flag."

By Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC A Guadalcanal Veteran of WWII, 11th Marines, and the Chaplain for the 1st Marine Division Association.

[Cacman]

IF I should die, think only this of me;
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

just shows you how willing they were to accept the fate of war, and there willigness to do there duty to there country....

[Red]

Death must be easy because life is hard.

[EvanL]

Yes...


http://www.e2cweb.com/images_art/american%20flag.jpg

I guess somebody should have pointed out to Vance that thats actually a Canadian song. ;)

[Vance]

Well, no ****.

[EvanL]

Well i was just pointing out the hypocrisy of your image after the uniquely canadian poem. Try not to get your panties in such a knot.

[Vance]

Who the hell said I put that picture there in reference to the poem? The title of this thread is 'thank you', obviously to veterans, so I was saying 'thank you' to the veterans of the US. Jeez man, hop off my balls!

[NcDeuce]

http://www.zwpatch.com/images/army%20scans/generic_ranger_mess_with_the_best.jpg

[hood]

http://realpolitik.us/03image/wells111203.gif