posted 05-23-2001 02:50 PM         

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a
jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence
inside them:a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg
or
perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery
of adversity.

Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe
wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking.

What is a vet? He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi
>Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run
out of fuel.

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.

She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't
come back AT ALL.

He is the Army drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved
countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members
into Soldiers, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

He/she is the pilot/crewmember/ground support person that keeps airpower
an effective tool of national policy.

He is the carrier pilot landing on a rolling, pitching, heaving flight
during a rain squall in the pitch-black night of the Tonkin Gulf.

He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals
with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster (Army Supply Corps) who watches the
ribbons and medals pass him by.

He is the Navy SEAL who humps endless miles of burning sand for three
days with no sleep or food and very little water to designate targets for
laser guided bombs or swims through a disease infested swamp and crawls
over
poisonous snakes under the cover of darkness to conduct intelligence on a
foreign government hostile to our own and our cherished way of life.

He is the annonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence
at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all
the
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 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, a sailor, an airman 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"

Author Unknown

posted 05-23-2001 03:03 PM         

The Veterans of our wars certainly do need to be thanked and recognized and respected.

Please do not, however, forget the wives, husbands, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters and parents of those who currently serve in our military forces. I have a son in the service who has done three tours in Saudia Arabia and one in Bosnia. If you think that there are no dangers out there for our service people just because we are not actively engaged in a war, think again.

Let us also say thanks and say prayers for all active service members. They are out there protecting the very freedoms that you enjoy every day and will be celebrating this Memorial Day weekend.

posted 05-23-2001 03:43 PM         

I love you guys!

posted 05-23-2001 11:03 PM         

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CJ - 1999 Black
Matching Prowler Trailer
Stock / Classic / Beautiful

posted 05-24-2001 09:58 AM         

In town there is a radio station that still plays the National Anthem every morning at 6:00 AM. Every day I listen to it and sing or whistle along with it. I remember the friends that did not come back with me, so thank you for remembering them with me.

posted 05-25-2001 07:49 PM         

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