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breaker44

Veteran's Day

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As per usual- thanks grandpa, dad. You fought the good fight, and kept this world safe for me. God bless you both.

-Breaker Out

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To all those who gave their lives willingly for their country.

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.

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Thankyou too all of them. Wearing the poppy and proud to be.

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Thank you, especially my grandfather who is about to die. sad_o.gif

He and the other people of his age did more than anybody anywhere could have expected of them. They went against all odds undernumbered and underequipt and even after the war kept fighting by other means in order to rebuilt this land and pay for the reparations.

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Caught the end of the ceremonies here in Ottawa today, huge crowd, especially given the icy wind that was blowing, which I don't think many dressed for. Took me about an hour to be able to put my poppy on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier after the ceremonies ended.

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Really? That's surprizing! Are they not as prominent a symbol in the U.S.?

Over here you run into them everywhere around this time of year! Hell, even the nearby convenience store had a little donation box with a tray of poppies beside it. I think it's somewhat of a (shameful) wonder that everyone isn't wearing one in the days leading up to Nov 11 (well, I'm not now, but I've explained why above) smile_o.gif

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Here in Britain, at pretty much every place where people congregate, from Information desks, reception desks, convenience stores, ticket offices, post offices, there is the little tray with the money box next to it and a rapidly dwindling number of poppies. Most people wear one; even though they might not talk about it - they get one. And then when the clock strikes the eleventh hour, most town centres go totally quiet for two whole minutes. And in ost public places there will be someone; a reverend, a councillor, a veteran, reading out Binyon's immortal words,

"...We will remember them."

Never, ever, fails to make me crack.

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Poppies arent a symbol we use, however, its significance is understood.

-Breaker Out

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I was wandering from hither to yon yesterday in Seattle, by way of the 'trendy' army surplus shop. I saw two younger people with what looked to be an odd lapel corsage, basicly almost a round red circle with a 1/3 sized black circle in the middle. I didn't recognize it, and the only thing I could connect it to is that it looked like a round version of a hurricane flag.

When I got home, my picture bucket had a press briefing photo with some pentagon brass, one also had a similar lapel corsage, with barely any fluting on the 'petals'.

It was actually Tovarish's picture of the strewing of similar facsimiles that made the connection, since in my mind the cutouts didn't look any thing like poppies.

About a half hour SE of my home tucked up in a seldom-traveled side canyon is a small "Old Soldier's Home" for elderly poor veterans. I'm not sure when it was constructed, but it dates from at least the time of 'The Great War', and iirc there's graves there of veterans that served in the US Civil War. I don't often have occasion to drive that road, but it's (*stupid inadequate english language*) when you drive down the winding mountain road and see the "Slow: Cemetary Entrance" sign at a hairpin turn most of the way down, then see the decaying headstones tucked back in the forest, and the fewer lights shining in the windows each year.

These are they of whom the poet John McCrae wrote :

Quote[/b] ]

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.

There was another relevant poem I saw once on Wikipedia, I don't recall which it was as it's more common in the UK than the US, but in the process I found this tribute to native Papua New Guinean people who rescued and evacuated many wounded Australian soldiers in the defense of the jungle track leading to Port Moresby :

Quote[/b] ]

Many a mother in Australia

when the busy day is done

Sends a prayer to the Almighty

for the keeping of her son

Asking that an angel guide him

and bring him safely back

Now we see those prayers are answered

on the Owen Stanley Track

For they haven't any halos

only holes slashed in their ears

And their faces worked by tattoos

with scratch pins in their hair

Bringing back the badly wounded

just as steady as a horse

Using leaves to keep the rain off

and as gentle as a nurse

Slow and careful in the bad places

on the awful mountain track

The look upon their faces

would make you think Christ was black

Not a move to hurt the wounded

as they treat him like a saint

It's a picture worth recording

that an artist's yet to paint

Many a lad will see his mother

and husbands see their wives

Just because the fuzzy wuzzy

carried them to save their lives

From mortar bombs and machine gun fire

or chance surprise attacks

To the safety and the care of doctors

at the bottom of the track

May the mothers of Australia

when they offer up a prayer

Mention those impromptu angels

with their fuzzy wuzzy hair.

Veteran's Day has had in my observation an unfortunate second place to Memorial Day, rather than an appropiate equal peering. Perhaps this is due to the rapid fading of our grandfathers who served in the two World Wars and Korea, the shame and stigma heaped on our fathers who served in Vietnam, and the closeness and shy humility of our brothers that served from Grenada to Bosnia, and serve today in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The veterans are alive today, and they live with us, and are a part of our lives.

* They're just ordinary working fathers and cops who grumble about having to go and babysit Uncle Sam's Misguided Children.

* They're just the college students looking to give something to their community rather than just playing video games.

* They're just the punk you teased for leaning communist in junior high school, who you read in the paper shipped out for the Gulf on an Aircraft Carrier.

* They're just the close friend who (personally embarrassing details omitted) and signed on the line for the service to pay for dental school through ROTC.

* They're just the newly married son of an indigent immigrant that came from a broken home but dreamed of so much more.

But beside each of these veterans is many more that share in their burdens, the unsung heros.

* They're the wive's who send their husbands off to their third or more deployments.

* They're the mother's who lie awake nights knowing they're utterly helpless to control the events on the ground.

* They're the brothers that have returned who write to tell their brothers who took their place to stay clear of baksheesh and b0dka.

* They're the little sisters who spend more minutes asking God to watch over their big brothers than they do on their cell phones.

* They're the cantankerous old drafting teacher, who closes the text at the beginning of class to lecture the delinquints in the back about the price of liberty, life as a tunnel rat, the responsibility of citizens and the media, and the horrors of returning while his brother did not.

* They're the elderly man in a foriegn land who describes in vivid detail watching from a hill above his village the black clouds of planes flying overhead to burn his country to the ground, then the memories of friendly white guys giving the kids candy and teaching them a little english.

I guess that's enough rambling for now.

WW1 color pics

1914 Christmas Truce

Quote[/b] ]

The Christmas Truce has often been characterized as the last "twitch" of the nineteenth century: the last moment when, in war, two sides would meet each other in proper and mutual respect for one another; when they would greet each other with kindness to show that — in spite of the horrible turn of events that had unfolded — they were still honourable and respectful soldiers of war.

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I was wandering from hither to yon yesterday in Seattle, by way of the 'trendy' army surplus shop. I saw two younger people with what looked to be an odd lapel corsage, basicly almost a round red circle with a 1/3 sized black circle in the middle. I didn't recognize it, and the only thing I could connect it to is that it looked like a round version of a hurricane flag.

You mean like this?

051111cover.jpg

caught my eye as well.

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To my father who went before me that laid the groundwork for me to follow.... Thank You.....

To my step-son who has followed after me...... Thank You....

To my fellow brother's and sister's who have paid the ultimate price..... Rest in peace I'll stand your watch.

Stout Hearts

|RE|Warhawk

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