Quote/Poem Memorial Day Reflections

[82Rigger]

I would be honored if today my European friends across the Atlantic will join with me for a moment to pause and reflect...and remember...our comrades who did not make it back home.



"Alone and far removed from earthly care
The noble ruins of men lie buried here.
You were strong men, good men
Endowed with youth and much the will to live
I hear no protest from the mute lips of the dead.
They rest; there is no more to give.
So long my comrades,
Sleep ye where you fell upon the field.
But tread softly please
March o’er my heart with ease
March on and on,
But to God alone we kneel."

- Audie Murphy



“Tell them of us… and say,
For their tomorrow,
We gave our today."

-- The Kohima Epitaph




"War drew us from our homeland in the sunlit springtime of our youth.
Those who did not come back alive remain
in perpetual springtime -- forever young --
And a part of them is with us always."

-- Author Unknown



"When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun."

-William Shakespeare




Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am diamond glints of snow;
I am sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you waken in morning's hush;
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.

- Unknown



If you are able,
save them a place
inside of you
and save one backward glance
when you are leaving
for the places they can
no longer go.
Be not ashamed to say
you loved them,
though you may
or may not have always.
Take what they have left
and what they have taught you
with their dying
and keep it with your own.
And in that time
when men decide and feel safe
to call war insane,
take one moment to embrace
those gentle heroes
you left behind.

- Major Michael Davis O'Donnell





The Wall

"Look deeply into my black granite face and see yourself in the reflection - your face, super-imposed on names. Never forget the names, the names, the names - for they hold the answer."

Terrence O'Donnell, Esq. (USAF)
Vietnam 1969-1970




THE WALL

 

[Bombardier]

Anthem for doomed youth

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them from prayers or bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing down of blinds

Wilfred Owen
first published in 1921

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Have you forgotten yet?

HAVE you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same-and War's a bloody game...
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.

Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench-
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'

Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads-those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?

Have you forgotten yet?...
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.

Siegfried Sassoon, 1920

---------------------------------------------------------------
The Cenotaph

Not yet will those measureless fields be green again
Where only yesterday the wild sweet blood of wonderful youth was shed;
There is a grave whose earth must hold too long, too deep a stain,
Though for ever over it we may speak as proudly as we may tread.
But here, where the watchers by lonely hearths from the thrust of an
inward sword have more slowly bled,
We shall build the Cenotaph: Victory, winged, with Peace, winged too, at the column's head.
And over the stairway, at the foot -- oh! here, leave desolate, passionate hands to spread
Violets, roses, and laurel, with the small, sweet, tinkling country things
Speaking so wistfully of other Springs,
From the little gardens of little places where son or sweetheart was born and bred.
In splendid sleep, with a thousand brothers
To lovers - to mothers
Here, too, lies he: Under the purple, the green, the red,
It is all young life: it must break some women's hearts to see
Such a brave, gay coverlet to such a bed!
Only, when all is done and said,
God is not mocked and neither are the dead
For this will stand in our Market-place -
Who'll sell, who'll buy?
(Will you or I
Lie each to each with the better grace?)
While looking into every busy whore's and huckster's face
As they drive their bargains, is the Face
Of God: and some young, piteous, murdered face.

Charlottel Mew, 1919

 

[Drone_pilot]

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep

Mary Frye (1932)

 

[Bombardier]

Why wear a Poppy?

Why wear a Poppy

"Please wear a poppy," the lady said,
And held one forth, but I shook my head,
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;

But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.

His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
When she'd pinned it on, he turned to say;
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"

The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered; "This is Remembrance Day.
And the poppy there is a symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.

And because they did, you and I are free -
That's why we wear a poppy, you see.
I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.

He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird, he would race about.
As the years went by, he learned and grew,
And became a man - as you will, too.

He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day.

When he smiled at me and said, 'Goodbye,
I'll be back soon, Mum, please don't cry.'
But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.

His letters told of the awful fight
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

Till at last, at last, the war was won -
And that's why we wear a poppy, son."
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said: "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.

I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me, you'd have done the same:
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Though our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!

And so, when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and Give!

by Don Crawford

 

[Drone_pilot]

Well how do you do, young Willie McBride,
do youmind if I sit here down by your graveside.
And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun.
I've been working all day and I'm nearly done.
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
when you joined the dead heroes of nineteen-sixteen.
I hope you died well and I hope you died clean.
Or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Chorus:
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down.
And did the band play the Last post and chorus.
Did the pipes play the 'Flowers of the forest'.


And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined
Although you died back in nineteen sixteen
In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Enclosed and forever behind the glass frame
In a old photograph, torn and battered and stained
And fade to yellow in a brown leather frame.


The sun now it shines on the green fields of France
There's a warm summer breeze. it makes the red poppies dance
And look how the sun shines from under the clouds
There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard it's still no-man's-land
The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
To a whole generation that were butchered and damned.


Now young Willie McBride I can't help but wonder why
Do all those who lie here know why they died
And did they believe when they answered the cause
Did they really believe that this war would end wars
Well the sorrows, the suffering, the glory. the pain
The killing and dying was all done in vain
For young Willie McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again.


The Green Fields of France
- by Eric Bogle

a very moving song.

to here Eric sing this song Click here

 

[Bombardier]

I would be honored if today my European friends across the Atlantic will join with me for a moment to pause and reflect...and remember...our comrades who did not make it back home.

We will remember

 

[Frisco-Kid]

BLUE AND GRAY

Hither we come to scatter flowers
This thirtieth day of May,
Upon our fallen hero's graves
On this Memorial Day;
We cherish now no bitter thoughts
In this fair land of our,
But on all fallen hero's graves
We come to scatter flowers.

The rank and file in North and South
Believed their cause was just;
We find upon each battle flag
Inscribed "In God We Trust;"
And in this sunny land of ours,
Now sleeping side by side,
The Union Blue and Southern Gray
Lie buried where they died.

Since we have come to scatter flowers
This consecrated day,
We cannot cherish bitter thoughts
Toward those who wore the "Gray;"
Believing that their cause was right,
Freely their blood they shed;
Then, let us strew-alike-the graves
Of all our sacred dead.

And those who for the Union fought,
In scattering flowers today
On hero's graves, would never dream
Of passing by the gray;
And heroes of the "Southern Cause,"
In paying homage true,
Will not forget the graves of those
Who wore the Union Blue.

Thrice welcome, then, this sacred day.
That binds our hearts anew;
Our country undivided stands,
For all-now love the Blue;
On resurrection day,
Linked arm in arm, we'll find the boys
Who wore the Blue and Gray.

*William Henry Clay Dodson*

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"THE PATRIOT"

Memorial Day weekend was coming up, and the nursery school teacher took the opportunity to tell her class about Patriotism.

"We live in a great country," she said. "One of the things we should be happy about is that, living in this country, we are all free."

One little boy came walking up to her from the back of the room. He stood with his hands on his hips and said.........

"I'm not FREE! I'm FOUR!" :lol:

 

[Eagledriver]

We will remember!



usa; pow; med; vc;

 

[Zofo]

DP That is some poem.
For our US friends, for our European friends, I apologise but I do remember!

 

[Bigbird]

I found it very difficult to read these poems because i was crying throughout, they are very sad and its sad that it takes war and the loss of loved ones to generate such wonderful sentiment.

I need some time to get over these poems.they were sad yet very beautifull

 

[Viking69]

That is a song and a half just listen to it again for the 19th time and, and ,and, sal; well what can you say vik, cow; viki;