Veterans Month 2005
Some gave all
What is this thing that makes us go and do the things we must?
Duty, honor, country. Patriotism - true and just.
What is this splash of white I see o'er the hills of this great land?
It's the relics of our heritage, and a past we hope to understand.
Listen to the drumbeat of history and you can hear the sullen toll
Of soldiers marching down through time, and feel the honor of their role.
Marching to the cadence of a grand and glorious band,
The fate of civilization was held in the hollow of their hand.
They've stood in stilted struggle against a scurrilous foe,
Some gave all - all gave some. That freedom we may know.
The freedoms that we take for granted and the liberty that is mine,
Has cost someone so dearly somewhere along the line.
We can hear the drone of bagpipes as they play "Amazing Grace,"
And see the flag draped coffin as another takes his place.
They donned the yoke of duty, some shed blood in the sand,
Their memories are kept alive by a splash of white upon the land.
The splash of white is the headstones that stand in mute attest
And mark the ground where they now lay, and say they now have rest.
These are the sacred symbols of a hallowed ground so pure.
We must keep their memory alive and thus their cause endures.
All gave some.
He was there at the first of things. He will be there at the last.
He has subdued the serpent and the scepter has been passed.
Living 'neath a canopy of virtue and of grace
And "death before dishonor" is written on his face.
I am humbled by the courage of those who've stood the test,
And came through, though not unscarred, and we are truly bless'd.
He carries with him the scars of the battles he has fought
And he has paid a price so dear for the freedoms he has sought.
Standing on the ramparts and holding fiend at bay,
This is a sacred ritual he lives from day to day.
He has been wreathed in hardship while standing in the gaps
And has shown unshackled valor from reveille to taps.
So when you see the medals of the soldier passing by
Take a moment to think of his story, of where he has been and why.
The ribbons tell a story of his service to our land,
That he has summoned up the courage to rise and take a stand.
They tell of someone who has slept upon a jarring ground,
On rolling seas, in muddy fields and chaos all around.
Flying o'er the battlefield or guarding home front shores,
Standing sentry on a wall. These all are daily chores.
They say he made the sacrifice and left the comforts of life
And has been sprinkled with a suffering that comes with worldly strife.
They tell of sorrow, of separation, and many other story,
But no true soldier ever wears them for his own personal glory.
Once you've bore the burden of service and answered duty's call,
The change is forever, and you can now stand tall.
For those who have fought for it and the enemy once faced
Freedom has a flavor the protected will never taste.