We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final
resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might
live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But,
in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate–we cannot consecrate–we cannot
hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here,
have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.
Lincoln’s speeches were always powerful and moving.
Me and my family extend our most sincere thoughts and prayers to those that have given so much, so that we can live in such a wonderful country.
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.
May The Big Kahuna gather the fallen to him and may he bless their families.
Here’s to:
My cousin: Sgt. Francis P. Ford
Sgt. 134th Infantry, 35th Division
Bronze Star and two Purple Hearts
Dec. 9, 1944
He lies in the Lorraine American Cemetery, St. Avold, France
Thanks, Sarge!
Here’s to Uncle Steve: Flew a B-17 over Germany (27 missions), a B-29 over Korea, ended as a short Colonel with SAC maintenance wing.
Uncle Jim: On board a tiny little minesweeper at D-Day, 3 months after leaving the mountains of central Pennsylvania.
Uncle Bud: Medical corpsman in the South Pacific, who left those same mountains, and picked up the bug that ate his liver and killed him.
Dad: Who made the machine tools to make the weapons.
Here’s to:
William “Bud” Morrisey. 347th Combat Engineers and the 817th Tank Destroyer Batallion. Northwest Europe 6/29/44 to 5/06/45. Every now and then he scratches at his arm from the phosphorus burns.
The bodies were still in the water when he landed.
Headed for the Pacific when that war ended.
Thanks, Bud, my favorite next door neighbor.
Here’s a strange one: when I got the picture of the cemetery in Lorraine where my cousin, Sgt. Ford, is buried, I took it in to show Bud. What does he do? He pulls out the map he had on the campaign in Europe, his entire itinerery penciled in, and what’s even stranger, he had gone through the town where the American cemetery was located.
Oh, and we have gotten good news, Matt the Marine will be returning to the States sometime at the beginning of next month. We’re going to try to get down to Camp Lejune to see the march in.
[…] Protein Wisdom’s got your Gettysburg Address excerpt and links to a very long list of names. […]
“Liberty is never unalienable; it must be redeemed regularly with the blood of patriots or it always vanishes. Of all the so-called natural human rights that have ever been invented, liberty is the least to be cheap and is never free of cost.”
-Robert A. Heinlein
Matt the Marine will be returning to the States
Congratulations! Happy thoughts to you and your family.
N.O’B Good news indeed. Thank him for me, please.
A wonderful fact about Memorial Day is that it originated among the populace, not the national government.
http://www.usmemorialday.org/backgrnd.html
Many happy days with your son, N.O’Brain.
To the best of my knowledge, the nearest I have to a fallen-in-combat is Richard McGehee, the eldest brother of my great great grandfather. A sharpshooter with the Army of the Cumberland, he was mortally wounded during the Battle of Stones River near Murfreesboro, Tennessee in January 1863. Survived by a widow and eight children.
There may be others, but he’s the only one I know about for sure.
awww. teh googledorks found a yellow ribbon. Scuse me i need a tissue.
To my maternal grandfather, Shelton Yarborough, who spent the war in Mobile AL, welding Liberty ships.
And here’s one from Kipling, to remind us of what really lies behind any speech O! and his minions:
Sorry, accidentally posted this in the other thread.
I would like to add a personal tribute to Professor Liviu Librescu.
May all of us in the teaching profession have 1/10th his courage, and may none of us ever be put to such a test.
To the Fallen, thank you for your service.
The unsung verses of the national anthem:
On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
‘Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
O! thus be it ever, when free men shall stand
Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Vanderleun makes good with “Small Flags“