Idea Central Thursday Nov.11
Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>
- We remember Lord, we remember: we remember ships tossed in the air by explosions, we remember men, our friends, falling beside us.... we remember telegrams coming to the doors of our neighbours, husbands taken from our arms never to return; sons whom we feared for every day. We remember a lot, we remember....
- Loving Father - help us in our memories - ease us in the pain of them, without causing us to forget.
- Lord God - we remember the costs, remind us too of the victory - of what was won by our comrades and by fellow countrymen;
- And finally Lord God - be with all those who are facing war this day - our men and woman at sea and on land and in the air in the mid-east; and be with the rulers of this world and all the world's citizens, that we may learn and live the way of peace with justice, we ask it Jesus' name - AMEN
The Common Soldier
Nobody cared, when he went to war,
But the woman that cried on his shoulder;
Nobody decked him with immortelles;
He was only a common soldier.
Nobody packed in a dainty trunk
Folded raiment and officer's fair;
A knapsack held all the new recruit
Might own, or love, or eat, or wear.
Nobody gave him a good-by fete,
With sparkling jest and flower crowned wine:
Two or three friends on the sidewalk stood
Watching for Jones, the fourth in line.
Nobody cared how the battle went,
With the man that fought till the bullet sped
Through the coat undecked with leaf or star
On a common soldier left for dead.
The cool rain bathed the fevered wound,
And the kind clouds wept the live long night;
A pitying lotion Nature gave,
Till help might come with morning light —
Such help as the knife of the surgeon gives,
Cleaving the gallant arm from shoulder;
And another name swells the pension list
For the meager pay of a common soldier.
What matter how he served the guns
When plume and sash were over yonder?
What matter though he bear the flag
Through blinding smoke and battle thunder.
What matters though a wife and child
Cry softly for that good arm rent?
And wonder why that random shot
To him, their own, beloved, was sent?
O patriotic hearts, wipe out this stain;
Give jeweled cup and sword and no more;
But let no common soldier blush
To own the loyal wardrobe he wore.
Shout long and loud for victory won
By chief and leader stanch and true;
But don't forget the boys that fought —
Shout for the common soldier too !
You Can't Tell a Vet Just By Looking
He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carrier didn't run out of fuel.
He is the barroom loudmouth whose behavior is outweighed in the cosmic scales by four hours of unparalleled bravery near the 38th Parallel in Korea.
She is the nurse who fought against futility in Da Nang and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years.
He is the POW who left one person and came back another.
He is the drill instructor who has never been in combat, but has saved countless lives by turning no-accounts into Marines.
He is the parade-riding legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.
He is the white-haired guy bagging groceries at the supermarket, aggravatingly slow, who helped liberate a Nazi death camp.
A vet is an ordinary and extraordinary human being — someone who offered his life's vital years in the service of his country.
He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. We will never be able to repay the debt of gratitude we owe.
PROFILE OF A SOLDIER
A young man was he
He went away to war
Young and innocent was he
Why wars?
Why me?
Why not me?
He went to war and became a man
He returned different, far older than his years
The scars of war etched on his soul
Wounds that will never heal
Scars indented on his mind and body forever
A young man
A man
A soldier forever.
Dorothy Sharp
A SOLDIER PRAYS
Oh Lord!
Here we sit on this foreign soil,
So very far from home and loved one all.
Death so very near and we so very much afraid.
Please help my comrades and I,
For we wish not to die alone.
We pray that you will be here,
To hear our cry and us to your breast to take.
You are the only living Lord,
We give ourselves to you.
If we must die, and die we must,
Please take us home on high with you.
With outstretched hands we grasp for thee,
Thy love so tender and yet so strong.
Every breath of ours is yours to have,
We need you, Oh so very much Lord.
Dave and Barbara
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