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Sent to me today by E-mail
It's the military'not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the Press
It's the Military ,not the poet who has given us the freedom of Speech
It's the Military not the Politicians that ensure our right to Life, Liberty and the Persuit of Happiness
It,s the Military who salutes the Flag, who serve beneath the flag and whose coffin is draped by the flag.
One June kindly shared with me:
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.
Tho’ sometimes to his neighbours,
His tales became a joke,
All his Legion cuddies 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’ll not be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary.
Quiet and 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 wore great
Papers tell 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,
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 (hat h® gives,
While the ordinary soldier
Who offers 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 soldiers’ part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honour
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.
ANON
Charlie, the one you shared with me and yes also brought a tear to my eyes.
THE FINAL INSPECTION
The soldier 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 soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?'
The soldier 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,
But if you don't, I'll understand.
There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgement of his God.
'Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'
Author Unknown~
"Good-morning; good-morning!" the General said
When we met him last week on our way to the line.
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead,
And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.
"He’s a cheery old card," grunted Harry to Jack
As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.
But he did for them both by his plan of attack
Not a poem but its fitting for Remembrance:
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