Lest we forget

[Coopsman1]

The Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,

Which must always come to pass,

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To My Church have you been true?"

The soldier squared his shoulders and

said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't,

Because those of us who carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was tough,

And sometimes I've been violent,

Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime

When the bills got just too steep,

And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear,

And sometimes, God forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place

Among the people here,

They never wanted me around,

Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand,

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod,

As the soldier waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, you soldier,

You've borne your burdens well,

Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in Hell."

Who are these men?

Who are these men who march so proud.

Who quietly weep, eyes closed, head bowed?

These are the men who once were boys,

Who missed out on youth and all its joys,

Who are these men with aged faces,

Who silently count the empty spaces?

These are the men who gave there all,

Who fought for their country, for freedom, for all.

Who are these men with sorrowful look,

Who can still remember the lives that were took?

These are the men who saw young men die,

The price of peace is always high.

Who are these men who in the midst of pain,

Whispered comfort to those who would not see again?

These are the men whose hands held tomorrow,

Who brought back our future with blood, tears and sorrow.

Who are these men who promise to keep,

Alive in their hearts the ones God holds asleep?

These are the men to whom I promise again:

Veterans, my friends, I will remember them

 

[Judderman]

They shall not grow old as we who 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..

 

[tinytomlogan]

 

[FarFarAway]

DULCE ET DECORUM EST

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,

And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est

Pro patria mori.

Never foget.

Let's remember our boys dying at War now too. RIP.

 

[nepas]

 

[AMDFTW]

PER ARDUA forever strong