MEMORIAL DAY 2019
In loving memory and deepest gratitude
for all who fought, suffered injuries, and died
that we might live in freedom today.
We still called this occasion "Decoration Day" when I was in elementary school. It originated after the Civil War to honor those dead.
Veterans Day was called Armistice Day back then too.
Have we ever given official thanks to those who fought, suffered, bled, died and went broke during the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812?
Veterans Day was called Armistice Day back then too.
Have we ever given official thanks to those who fought, suffered, bled, died and went broke during the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812?
After the decisive victory won by The Allies in World War Two it seems downright criminal to me that even ONE American has had to die in the many staged Exercises in Futility we've been led to indulge in since for the benefit of Munitions Manufacturers and the International Bankers who play all sides against the middle to our great detriment.
We should all be armed to the teeth to repel foreign invaders and shoot to death anyone who dares intrude upon the sanctity of our homes.
Aggressors of any kind deserve nothing less than DEATH.
However, when we are duped into becoming aggressors, ourselves, in the name of some phony, trumped-up "cause" or manufactured international "crisis," our soldiers then become nothing more than pawns –– victims of the greed and corrupt ambition of the few who own and operate our leaders and dictate our policies for nefarious purposes of the their own behind the scenes.
Even so, a father, son, husband, brother, lover or friend killed in these Wars of Waste and Warped Ambition is no less deserving of our love, respect and reverence than those who died for genuine, noble causes.
Their sacrifice may have been in vain, but as Kipling said in The Charge of the Light Brigade:
"Theirs not to reason why;
Theirs but to do and die."
For that alone they deserve our love, respect and unending support. Courage and sacrifice are still what they are even when tragically –– or diabolically -- misdirected.
May God grant our people –– and ALL people –– access to Truth, and give them the wisdom to seek Truth, then act in accordance with it when at last Truth becomes known.
AMEN!
I'll be seeing you
ReplyDelete___ in all the old familiar places
that this heart of mine embraces
___ all day through
In a small cafe,
___ the park across the way
The children' carousel,
___ the chestnut trees, the wishing well.
I'll be seeing you
___ in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always thnk of you that way.
I'll find you in the mornung sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon,
___ but I'll be seeing you.
~ Irving Kahal (1938)
ReplyDelete––––––– WHY MEMORIAL DAY?–––––––
PART ONE
Do you remember the parades? The high school marching bands, the Boy Scouts, the Cub Scouts, and the Brownies all neatly dressed in their uniforms and marching along, sometimes shyly, sometimes proudly, but more often just plain doggedly?
Do you remember the excitement getting ready for The Big Event? Everyone rushing around in the early A.M., mother making sure that everyone got breakfast –– you can’t march on an empty stomach, you know. Dad hanging out the flag on the front porch or from an upper storey window, slightly embarrassed, but privately grateful when Junior points out that it’s hung upside down. There’s just time to put it right before everyone has to be at the starting grounds for the big parade.
Little sister, too young to march, gets the best view, because she’s privileged to sit on Daddy’s shoulder. Later, she’ll shriek with wild delight to to the wry amusement of all the parade goers, when she spots her big brother, the Eagle Scout, bearing the standard in front of the whole troop. He’ll turn beet red with self-consciousness when he hears her, but pretend not to notice, and secretly be pleased.
The veterans of two World Wars will march too. They are the real reason for this exciting event. The ancient ones from the First World War, some hobbling on crutches or walking stiffly with canes, wouldn’t miss the chance to march no matter how much effort it might be for them. Uniforms, which no longer fit very well, some even partially eaten by moths, have been dragged out of attics and basements once again to have their brass buttons polished in honor of the day. And there’s always an octogenarian or two who is so proud that his uniform still fits as well as it did in 1916. He will march with his still-handsome head held high, and with an energy that will put all the younger ones to shame.
Most of the dads are from the World War Two vintage. They have grown comfortably into middle age, grateful to be here in this land-of-the-free. The horrors of the war they studiously avoid discussing, or even thinking much about, except when an occasional nightmare disturbs their rest, or during those rare, quiet get-togethers with foxhole buddies who actually went through the same experience. At the VFW meetings they pretty much try to concentrate on having good times, and doing good works for the community.
If they seem a little too hearty and laugh a little too loudly, don’t let it bother you. The gave more than those of us left safely at home could possibly imagine –– much more than most of them could possibly even tell you about.
(CONTINUED)
–––––––– WHY MEMORIAL DAY? ––––––––
DeletePART TWO
And so, thy marched with pride, with gratitude, and with hope that future generations would not be called upon to make similar sacrifices, so that their families could continue to grow their gardens in peace, and march in future parades and enjoy picnicking with both gratitude and joy.
Later, after the parade, mothers, sisters and aunts would put on the most splendid outdoor feasts. Do you remember the huge bowls of luscious homemade potato salad redolent of onions, peppers, hard boiled eggs, Aunt Mary’s very special homemade mustard, and Hellmann’s Mayonnaise?
Sometimes, they added bacon. Surely you must remember the hot dogs and hamburgers, or maybe some ribs and chicken all lovingly and exquisitely marinated with secret spices Dad used before cooking them over white hot charcoal? And all the things to fill it out like Aunt Vera’s carrot raisin slaw and Cousin Jane’s extra special good cucumber salad that even the kids loved to eat, and Mother’s homemade cheesebread –– to say nothing of all the cakes and pies and brownies and stuff.
One year Mother made a spectacular sheet cake that used blueberries and the brightest red strawberries strategically placed on her best white icing to represent the American Flag! The trouble was it didn’t taste near as good as it looked, so we never had it again.
As a famous song says, “These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives.”
No one talked about Uncle Bob, who died in a Japanese prison camp less than a month before the war was over, or Cousin Eddie, who walks with a painful limp, because there was no way the surgeons could get all the shrapnel out of his knee.
No one talked about these sacrifices as we put on our innocent and prideful displays, thrilled at the realization that summer vacation was now in sight, and romped and teased and loved each other, –– but we knew.
Somehow, we were aware that all this was not happening just for “fun.” In those long ago days we were taught to be grateful. We were made aware that everything we do has consequences, and that everything –– good and bad –– must be paid for. There were no “free rides,” and no “free lunches,” either. Sometimes, terrible things happen –– like Uncle Bob’s dying in that prison camp. [We found out later from two of his surviving buddies that they’d inserted slivers of bamboo under his fingernails and set them on fire –– among other things.]
But we didn’t dwell on stuff like that.
Uncle Bob had been a sweet-natured, happy-go-lucky man. He was the first to come pick you up and fetch the mercurochrome, if you fell off your bicycle, and he adored animals. He was always bringing home a little lost kitten or stray puppy much to Mother’s indulgent dismay.
Oh, we still miss Uncle Bob, even though he’s been gone for more than sixty years now, but we’ve always felt that he wanted us to be happy. That’s why he went over there and got himself tortured and killed. So we have been happy, but we’ve kept Uncle Bob alive in the love we store in our memories of him, and our gratitude for his courage and sacrifice, and for the swell guy he was whom we were so lucky ever to have known at all.
Should we do less for all those other “Uncle Bobs” who gave their lives so that we might continue to enjoy our picnics?
~ FreeThinke - The Sandpiper - Spring, 1996
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
ReplyDeleteAnd Mourners to and fro
Kept treading –– treading –– till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through -
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum ––
Kept beating –– beating –– till I thought
My mind was going numb––
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space –– began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race,
Wrecked, solitary, here ––
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down ––
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing –– then ––
~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
_______ Hail Columbia _______
ReplyDeleteHail Columbia, happy land!
Hail, ye heroes, heaven-born band,
Who fought and bled in freedom's cause,
Who fought and bled in freedom's cause,
And when the storm of war was gone
Enjoy'd the peace your valor won.
Let independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies.
Firm, united let us be,
Rallying round our liberty,
As a band of brothers joined,
Peace and safety we shall find.
Immortal patriots, rise once more,
Defend your rights, defend your shore!
Let no rude foe, with impious hand,
Let no rude foe, with impious hand,
Invade the shrine where sacred lies
Of toil and blood, the well-earned prize,
While offering peace, sincere and just,
In Heaven's we place a manly trust,
That truth and justice will prevail,
And every scheme of bondage fail.
Firm, united let us be,
Rallying round our liberty,
As a band of brothers joined,
Peace and safety we shall find.
Behold the chief who now commands,
Once more to serve his country stands.
The rock on which the storm will break,
The rock on which the storm will break,
But armed in virtue, firm, and true,
His hopes are fixed on Heav'n and you.
When hope was sinking in dismay,
When glooms obscured Columbia's day,
His steady mind, from changes free,
Resolved on death or liberty.
Firm, united let us be,
Rallying round our liberty,
As a band of brothers joined,
Peace and safety we shall find.
Sound, sound the trump of fame,
Let Washington's great fame
Ring through the world with loud applause,
Ring through the world with loud applause,
Let every clime to freedom dear,
Listen with a joyful ear,
With equal skill, with God-like power
He governs in the fearful hour
Of horrid war, or guides with ease
The happier time of honest peace.
Firm, united let us be,
Rallying round our liberty,
As a band of brothers joined,
Peace and safety we shall find.
~ Words by Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842)
Music by Philip Phile (1734-1793)
POSTED as a MEMORIAL TRIBUTE to the FIGHTING MEN WHO LOST THEIR LIVES IN FOREIGN WARS and to THE LOVED ONES THEY LEFT BEHIND
ReplyDeleteAfter great pain
A formal feeling comes
The nerves sit ceremonious –– like tombs.
The stiff hear questions
Was it He that bore ––
And yesterday –– or centuries before?
The feet mechanical go round ––
A wooden way
Of ground or air or ought.
Regardless grown ––
A quartz contentment lie a stone.
This is the hour of lead.
Remembered –– if outlived ––
As freezing persons recollect the snow.
First chill ––
Then stupor ––
Then –– the letting go.
~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
ReplyDelete__________THE END _________
Not every man knows
––– what he shall sing at the end,
Watching the pier
––– as the ship sails away,
_____ ___ or what it will seem like
When he’s held
___ by the sea’s roar, motionless,
________ there at the end,
Or what he shall hope for
___ once it is clear
________ that he’ll never go back.
When the time has passed
___ to prune the rose
________ or caress the cat,
When the sunset torching the lawn
___ and the full moon
________ icing it down
No longer appear,
___ not every man knows
________ what he’ll discover instead.
When the weight of the past
___ leans against nothing,
________ and the sky
Is no more than remembered light,
_____ and the stories of cirrus
And cumulus come to a close,
___ and all the birds
________ are suspended in flight,
Not every man knows
___ what is waiting for him,
________ or what he shall sing
When the ship he is on
___ slips into darkness,
________ there at the end.
~ Mark Strand (1934-2014)
Mr. AOW and I will go to take a look at Rolling Thunder 2019. This may well be the group's last year -- because of all the permit costs associated with the ride. Ugh.
ReplyDeleteA lot of these permit costs are the result of security cost since 9/11. Thank you, Moslems! Not!
A casualty of Politial Correctness run amok no doubt.
DeleteMassachusetts State Police said a 33-year-old Dorchester man was accused of vandalizing the Vietnam Veterans Memorial!
ReplyDeleteThe Dorchester Vietnam Veterans Memorial was defaced with a swastika and other graffiti Thursday, just one day after repairs to the monument were completed from when it was vandalized in October.
Several dozen recent plants and shrubs and flowers were torn out of the ground and American flags were removed and thrown into water near the memorial!
People who do things like this are Pigs, and Sewer Rats, with no guts, and hate their country like PIGS and I hope that they get hunted down like the cowardly bitches they are, and are dealt with accordingly !
It's incredibly ironic that Massachuesetts, –– once The Crade of American Liberty and the birthplace and lifelong home of John Adams, known as The Colossus of Independence in his time ––, should become the latter-day Hotbed of Sedition and crypto-Msrxisn Thought that it is today.
DeleteMy New England Puritan Ancestors whose progeny fought in the Revolution, the War of 1812, the Civil War and the two World Wars must be revolving in their graves at the stinking mess that has been made of their hard work,devotion, and sacrifice.
Memorial Day is not really about big sales at the Mall, a day at the beach, or back yard cookouts.
ReplyDeleteRather, Memorial Day is a solemn commemoration of our fallen military across the centuries.
Memorial Day or Decoration Day is a federal holiday in the United States for remembering the people who died while serving in the country's armed forces. The holiday is currently observed every year on the last Monday of May.
It’s a day to remember those who did make it home.
I wanted to point that out because I am sure many perhaps even most of the younger generation....aka millenials have no idea what it is all about.....to them just another opportunity to party.
Anyhow.....let us remember those who have fallen in our defense...let us pause if just for a moment to give thanks for their service.
Far too many do not realize just how much so many have sacrificed
I have been to Arlington Cemetery, and I have seen the rows after rows. After rows of Patriots who gave their all.
ReplyDeleteAnd I have been the the American Cemeteries in France, and in Belgium, and seen the same thing there.
I say Thank you for your sacrifice and service to our Great nation.
And Thank You to their families who lost these brave Patriots.
Remember this Memorial day and thank a Patriot, a soldier and pray for the family who has lost a brave Patriot.
Thank you very much, DD, for your contributions to our attempt to celebrate Memorial Day weekend with appropriate thoughts and feelings.
Delete__ A MEMORIAL DAY LAMENT __
ReplyDeleteThe thought arises once again:
That our brave men have died in vain
If in our now-degraded state
We see no more why they were great,––
And rattle on belligerently ––
Rejecting Thought that made us free ––
Embracing now with loud insistence ––
Malice threatening our existence ––
Tearing at each other's throats ––
While a leering Satan gloats ––
A sorry spectacle that wrenches
My heart thinking of the trenches
Filled with anguish, fear and dread
As bullets whizzed above each head,
And buried in the mud the mines
Lurked to shatter limbs and spines,
While in the distance cannons boomed
Inspiring fear that all were doomed.
Then to see a body shattered ––
One a buddy –– now parts scattered ––
In the mud with corpses strewn ––
Gruesome lit by sun or moon ––
More pitiful the wounded lie
In agony praying to die.
And all around the smell of blood
Vomit, –– urine, –– faces, –– crud
Defined the hellish atmosphere
But few if any shed a tear.
They knew they had a job to do ––
Protecting our land –– and you ––
From Tyranny, –– Brutality ––
Poverty –– and Slavery ––
Their Sacrifice –– Our Legacy –
Now relegated to the Fire ––
Ever the Enemy’s Desire ––
Because their precious Victory
Was neutralized by Sophistry
That promised Peace eternally
By ceding our Sovereignty
As a dumb ovine assembly
Always led too easily
To the abattoir where brutally
They end up slaughtered ruthlessly.
And so the Enemy has won ––
Not by bayonet, bomb, or gun ––
But by an ideology
Seductive, to those lazily
Imagining there’s an Easy Way
To stop becoming Satan’s Prey.
Thus lulled into a stupor we
Now feel a false Security.
Forgetting the we owe a debt
To those brave men who fought to get
Continued Opportunity
To cherish their fine legacy.
Because the Left runs Education
We’ve lost our great Emancipation ––
Betrayed great men through dissipation
Made worse by bitter argumentation.
~ FreeThinke
Now that it's been shown that the event that was used to con the American people into enlisting for WW1, the sinking of the Lusitania was a False Flag which was just another big lie concocted by Woodrow Wilson's team of Bolsheviks what good came out of this for the country?
ReplyDeleteDitto for the other wars which America not so willingly embraced until the False Flag occurred in the 20th Century and even the current century: 9/11, as well.
Today is a day to enjoy your bar-b-ques, your picnics, day at the beach, and the local parades and celebrations, after all, it is a holiday! No Work! No School! . But do pause for a minute to remember and honor all the brave Americans across the land and down through the centuries who have sacrificed their lives in the fight against tyrants, tyrannies and terrorists so that YOU, and your family are able to enjoy those things, and the freedoms that you have today..
ReplyDeleteWishing you all a good Holiday with your family, and take pride in your country.
And if you served, Thank you for your service!
Like the eagle in your photo above. Take time to offer a moment of thanks.
ReplyDeleteUntil the entirety of the human race learns the truth the world will continue to know wars and destruction. Souls will continue to be lost to violence.
ReplyDeleteAll because of the pride and ambition of individuals driven by their greed and power lust. It is clear the more things change the more they remain the same.
Happy Memorial Day.
It's not "Happy Memorial Day" you pathetic sack of shit. You probably celebrated by buying snow tires.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteWE do NOT accept IRRELEVANT comments, ESPECIALLY when they rudely DENIGRATE fellow BLOGGERS.
DeletePardons for Memorial Day?
ReplyDeleteNew York Sun,
by Editorial
So much hogwash has been written about the President’s pardon power that it’s hard to know where to start. One place, though, would be the New York Times’ editorial on President Trump’s use of pardons in military cases. It ran last week under a headline suggesting Mr. Trump’s general approach to pardons “may be lawful, but it is in no way normal.” In other words — blam! — before the Times even gets down to business it runs off the rails. That’s because there is no “normal” way to pardon. If the Framers had wanted to specify norms for using the pardon, they were perfectly capable of doing so . . .
__________ REMEMBER _________
ReplyDeleteRemember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad
~ Christina Rossetti (1836-1894)
Watch: 96-Year-Old WWII Vet Goes Viral For Stirring National Anthem on His Harmonica at Soccer Match
ReplyDeleteMediaite
by Joe DePaolo
On Sunday, Red Bull Arena in Harrison, NJ was filled to capacity — with 26,332 fans on hand to watch an exhibition soccer match between the U.S. women’s national team and Mexico. And prior to the start of the contest, each and every one of those fans was rapt listening to a harmonica player.Of course, Pete Dupre isn’t just any harmonica player. The 96-year-old who brought the house down at Red Bull Arena Sunday is a veteran of World War II.According to the U.S. women’s national team (via NJ.com), “During WWII, DuPre served as a medic in the 114th General Hospital Unit in Kidderminster, England. At age 17, . . .
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete