If you can read the text of this website thank a Teacher.
If you can read it in English thank a Soldier, Sailor or Airman.
How does a soldier feel fighting a war?
Does he always know what he is fighting for?
Maybe he knows but doesn't understand,
why he is alone in a faraway land.
Like so many others he is there for a cause,
And like the rest he doesn't pause.
He has a job that he does well,
even as his best friend beside him fell.
How does he feel when he hears the news,
of violent protests from the ignorant few?
His shame is great, the pain goes deep
he feels compassion for the dead at his feet.
Rioters can boast and carry signs,
about the war that has shook our time.
But when the call comes for them to go,
they burn their draft cards and make a show.
How can a soldier be proud of his land,
when this type of people make a stand?
How can we show him we are glad he is there,
fighting for freedom and the ones who care?
War is unfair in any way of life,
and all involved must pay the price.
But the soldier is proud to keep us free,
stop and think..........
Shouldn't you be?
I leave you with this.
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 organizer, Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier, Who salutes the flag, Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag, Who allows the protestor to burn the flag.
For all the free people who still protest, your welcome, we protect you and you are protected by the best. Your voice is strong and loud, bur who will fight for you? No one standing in your crowd.
We are you fathers, brothers, and sons, wearing the boots and carrying the guns. We are the ones that leave all we own, to make sure your future is carved in stone.
We are the ones who fight and die.
We might not be able to save the world, well at least we try. We walked the paths to where we are at and we want no choice other than that.
So when you rally your group to complain, take a look in the back of your brain. In order for that flag you love to fly, wars must be fought and young men die.
We came here to fight for the ones we hold dear, if that’s not respected we would rather stay here. So please stop yelling and put down your signs, and pray for those behind enemy lines.
When the conflict is over and all is well, be thankful that we chose to go through hell.
They shall grow not old, as we that 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
Unknown "wine'O" Courageous
- 16 years, 2 days ago
