With thanks to the person who wrote this poem...My Grandfather, father, brother, and cousin have served in our Armed Forces. Dad flew bomber planes in World War II in the Pacific theater. My nephews and cousin are actively serving now in the Navy, Coast Guard and Army. THANK YOU to all those who serve and have served. You are doing something I cannot do, and I am forever grateful.
Remember ...
It's the Veteran, not the reporter, who gave us our freedom of the press.
It's the Veteran, not the poet, who gave us our freedom of speech.
It's the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who gave us our freedom to demonstrate.
It's the Soldier, Sailor, Airman, and Marine, who salutes the flag, who serves others with respect for the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the Flag.
And who is the veteran?
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL.
She is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Danang.
He is the Parris Island drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks, soft suburbanites and even hardened gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.
He is the career Quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by, but keeps the supply lines full.
He 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 anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly 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.
He 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.
He is your quick-to-anger golf buddy with a Semper Fi bumper sticker on his truck, who cusses a blue streak and throws clubs ... because he has three blown discs and fused vertebrae in his back from combat; one for each of his tours of duty in Viet Nam.
He is an ordinary and yet an 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.
He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than 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.
Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU."
