Memorial day, 2008!
Please click on the header for a Memorial Day Card from the Crestwood Independent and his family.
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat
The soldier's last tattoo;
No more on life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.
No rumor of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
Nor troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind;
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn nor screaming fife
At dawn shall call to arms.
Their shriveled swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed,
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms, by battle gashed
Are free from anguish now.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout, are past;
Nor wars wild note nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that nevermore may feel
The rapture of the fight.
Like the fierce northern hurricane
That sweeps the great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gain,
Came down the serried foe,
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew well the watchword of that day
Was "Victory or death!"
Long had the doubtful conflict raged
O'er all that stricken plain,
For never fiercer fight had waged
The vengeful blood of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the gory tide;
Not long, our stout old chieftain knew,
Such odds his strength could bide.
Twas in that hour his stern command
Called to a martyr's grave
The flower of his beloved land,
The nation's flag to save.
By rivers of their father's gore
His first-born laurels grew,
And well he deemed the sons would pour
Their lives for glory too.
For many a mother's breath has swept
O'er Angosturas plain --
And long the pitying sky has wept
Above its moldered slain.
The raven's scream, or eagle's flight,
Or shepherd's pensive lay,
Alone awakes each sullen height
That frowned o'er that dread fray.
Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground
Ye must not slumber there,
Where stranger steps and tongues resound
Along the heedless air.
Your own proud land's heroic soil
Shall be your fitter grave;
She claims from war his richest spoil --
The ashes of her brave.
Thus 'neath their parent turf they rest,
Far from the gory field,
Borne to a Spartan mother's breast
On many a bloody shield;
The sunshine of their native sky
Smiles sadly on them here,
And kindred eyes and hearts watch by
The heroes sepulcher.
Rest on embalmed and sainted dead!
Dear as the blood ye gave;
No impious footstep shall here tread
The herbage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While fame her records keeps,
Or Honor points the hallowed spot
Where Valor proudly sleeps.
Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanquished ago has flown,
The story how ye fell;
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
Nor Time's remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glory's light
That gilds your deathless tomb.
From CMS Mike Heins, USAF, ret.
Tom Ford
NO. 503
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat
The soldier's last tattoo;
No more on life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.
No rumor of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
Nor troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind;
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn nor screaming fife
At dawn shall call to arms.
Their shriveled swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed,
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms, by battle gashed
Are free from anguish now.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout, are past;
Nor wars wild note nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that nevermore may feel
The rapture of the fight.
Like the fierce northern hurricane
That sweeps the great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gain,
Came down the serried foe,
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew well the watchword of that day
Was "Victory or death!"
Long had the doubtful conflict raged
O'er all that stricken plain,
For never fiercer fight had waged
The vengeful blood of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the gory tide;
Not long, our stout old chieftain knew,
Such odds his strength could bide.
Twas in that hour his stern command
Called to a martyr's grave
The flower of his beloved land,
The nation's flag to save.
By rivers of their father's gore
His first-born laurels grew,
And well he deemed the sons would pour
Their lives for glory too.
For many a mother's breath has swept
O'er Angosturas plain --
And long the pitying sky has wept
Above its moldered slain.
The raven's scream, or eagle's flight,
Or shepherd's pensive lay,
Alone awakes each sullen height
That frowned o'er that dread fray.
Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground
Ye must not slumber there,
Where stranger steps and tongues resound
Along the heedless air.
Your own proud land's heroic soil
Shall be your fitter grave;
She claims from war his richest spoil --
The ashes of her brave.
Thus 'neath their parent turf they rest,
Far from the gory field,
Borne to a Spartan mother's breast
On many a bloody shield;
The sunshine of their native sky
Smiles sadly on them here,
And kindred eyes and hearts watch by
The heroes sepulcher.
Rest on embalmed and sainted dead!
Dear as the blood ye gave;
No impious footstep shall here tread
The herbage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While fame her records keeps,
Or Honor points the hallowed spot
Where Valor proudly sleeps.
Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanquished ago has flown,
The story how ye fell;
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
Nor Time's remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glory's light
That gilds your deathless tomb.
From CMS Mike Heins, USAF, ret.
Tom Ford
NO. 503
posted by Crestwood Independent at 19:33
7 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Umm, excuse me, but can't we put politics aside for just a moment and honor the men and women in our armed services and the men and women who are veterans?
4:44 PM blogger: Yes we can, and I just did it!
This thread is for remembering our dead, not for cheep shots from people who aren't even brave enough to post their name!
You want to discuss Mr. Heine's, do it on his blog, period!
Tom Ford
http://www.focalpointusa.org/uniquelyamerican.html
Well worth the read!
Tom Ford
"WHAT IS A VET?"
by Marine Corp chaplain,
Father Denis Edward O'Brian
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged
scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence inside them,
a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps
another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of
adversity.
Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe
wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking. What is a
vet?
A vet is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out
of fuel.
A vet is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic
scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th Parallel.
A vet is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing
every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
A vet is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't
come back at all.
A vet is the drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved
countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account punks and gang members into
marines, airmen, sailors, soldiers and coast guardsmen, and teaching them to
watch each other's backs.
A vet is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals
with a prosthetic hand.
A vet is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass
him by.
A vet is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory
of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the
battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
A vet is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and
aggravating slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes
all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares
come.
A vet is an ordinary and yet extraordinary human being, a person who offered
some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who
sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.
A vet is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is
nothing more that the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest,
greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean
over and say, "Thank You." That's all most people need, and in most cases it
will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.
Again, two little words that mean a lot to any Veteran -- "THANK YOU."
Tom Ford
3:10 Tom. A thank you is not enough for us to say to all our veterans. But what makes me sad is when they come home battle-scarred and trumatized, our government does very little to help them.
Frankly, it disgusts me. It disgusts me that we stick our neck out and assist other countries to fight injustice, famine and war, but when it comes to saving this country, it's a different story.
If President Bush could fund money into this country equal to what he has put out for the war in Iraq, then I would say that all things are equal. But that hasn't happened. Even all of our allies have not joined us in this fight.
Frankly, I am sick of it. How can you win a war against barbarians; people who think that blowing themselves up will get them to a higher place and while committing suicide, they make sure and take our sons and daughters with them. These people regard death more precious than life. Why and how do we think we have any chance with people of that mind set?
Then when these victims of war come home, the government doesn't give them half the respect and care they deserve. Not in my opinion; and not what I have read and seem! Probably because we have spent all of our money fighting the war and have nothing left.
When I think of how shallow our government was in helping Katrina victims and heard Governor of New Orleans on television asking for assistance to get something done, I was actually embarrassed.
Yes, homeless people in THIS COUNTRY living in FEMA trailers; and that being bad enough, it seemed they had to wait forever. These people lost everything too; just as those from other countries. Wherein lies the justice? Some country has a crisis, and we are there the next day. Makes no sense to me.
Our homeland should come first, but it doesn't. Who else is to blame if not the Federal Government?
I would gamble the fact that the percentage of assistance given to people like the Katrina victims and others in this country in crisis, get more from grass roots organizations and people who initiate assistance in this country than from our own government.
Yes, I am very proud of each and every one of our men and women who fight for our country; or else you and I may not have the right of freedom of speech as I make my comments. But I see a big gap in how our veterans are treated and how we take our time rushing to the assistance of our own people.
So, I think it's about time that our new President gets a grip on what is going on here in the good old U.S. of A.
I think this next President better start thinking about this Country and its people, Global Warming and the high price of just driving to and from work to make a living.
I am all for helping others, but I want equal time given to America and our Veterans and people in the United States.
Thanks.
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