posted 10-13-2001 08:12 AM         

I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze
A young soldier saluted it, and then
He stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many Pilots' planes shot down?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No Freedom is not free
I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No Freedom isn't free!

copyright 1981
Kelly Strong
kellystrong@aol.com

The Silent Ranks

I wear no uniforms, no blues or army greens.
But I am in the military in the ranks rarely seen.
I have no rank upon my shoulders. Salutes I do not give.
But the military world is the place where I live.

I'm not in the chain of command, orders I do not get.
But my husband is the one who does, this I cannot forget.
I'm not the ones who fires the weapon, who puts my life on the line.
But my job is just as tough. I'm the one that's left behind.

My husband is a patriot, a brave and prideful man
and the call to serve his country, not all can understand.
Behind the lines I see the things needed to keep this country free.
My husband makes the sacrifice, but so do our kids and me.

I love the man I married. Soldiering is his life.
But I stand among the silent ranks
known as the Military Wife

Writer Unknown

IN HONOR OF FALLEN NIGHT STALKERS

When the roll was called that morning,
We listened for their names;
We paused in solemn silence,
For each it was the same.

None answered to the roll call,
Each one had passed away;
We felt the pain and the anguish,
On that sad and mournful day.

Each of us who knew them,
Knew it was not their last fight;
For God will take them home,
With him, they'll make their last flight.

Only those who fought with them,
On their final day;
Know what heroes they really were,
Yes heroes, we all will say.

For each of them was more concerned,
With the welfare of others;
This selfless love they possessed,
Makes us a band of brothers.

There was no hesitation,
With bullets round them flying;
They came to help their buddies,
For they knew others were dying.

Yes these men were heroes,
What each Warrior wants to be;
But these were special ones,
For they were Night Stalkers, you see.

So when their story is told,
Everyone will then admit;
It's more than just a motto;
"Night Stalkers Don't Quit!"

Col. Jerry Boykin
Mogadishu, Somalia
In honor of fallen Night Stalkers
3 Oct 93

posted 10-14-2001 04:40 PM         

Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the striken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the striken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was now dead.

The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the south when the war had broken out. Without telling his father, the boy had enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted. The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. But out of respect for the father, they did say they would give him only one musician. The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of notes he had found in the pocket of his dead son's uniform. The wish was granted. The haunting melody, we now know as "TAPS" used at military funerals, was born.

The word's to the three verses are as follows:

Day is done
gone the sun
From the lakes
From the hills
From the sky.
All is well,
Safely rest.
God is nigh

Fading light
Dims the sight
And a star
Gems the sky,
Gleaming bright
From afar,
Drawing nigh,
Falls the night.

Thanks and praise,
For our days,
Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
Neath the sky.
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.

I too, have felt the chills while listening to "TAPS" but I have never seen all the words to the song until now. I didn't even know there was more than one verse. I also never knew the story behind the song and I didn't know if any of you had either, so I thought I'd just pass it along.