That time of year again, another holiday.  Parades, cookouts, parties....but what was this really all about?

It started as a way to remember the Union Army dead from the war.   Widows and others would go out and decorate their relatives graves, if they could.  Slowly, it evolved into what is today just a party weekend.

 

 

Remember them...

 

That young farm boy fighting the Redcoats, and freezing in a Delaware river

The Militia Man trying to defend against a British Army burning the nation's capital

The trooper riding around in Mexico

The boys in both Blue and Butternut/Gray

Those ex-cowboys running up Kettle Hill

Those Doughboys, away from home for the first time

Those Dog Faced GIs that Ernie Pyle loved

Those Chesty Puller led Marines, who merely advance in a different direction

Those Grunts, wading around in some bug infested rice paddy

Those Troops called out to save another country from ruin.

Those that drove hundreds of miles in a sandstorm to free a land

 

Remember all of those Gentle souls who would never make it back home, to see that parade, to go to that cookout...

 

And hope someday, we will never have to

Charge up  a hill

Wade in a muddy trench

Storm a beach

Fly in a burning plane

And any other acts of war....

 

Remember the ones who gave all they could, so you could have a holiday today.

Well said!

That time of year again, another holiday.  Parades, cookouts, parties....but what was this really all about?

It started as a way to remember the Union Army dead from the war.   Widows and others would go out and decorate their relatives graves, if they could.  Slowly, it evolved into what is today just a party weekend.

 

 

Remember them...

 

That young farm boy fighting the Redcoats, and freezing in a Delaware river

The Militia Man trying to defend against a British Army burning the nation's capital

The trooper riding around in Mexico

The boys in both Blue and Butternut/Gray

Those ex-cowboys running up Kettle Hill

Those Doughboys, away from home for the first time

Those Dog Faced GIs that Ernie Pyle loved

Those Chesty Puller led Marines, who merely advance in a different direction

Those Grunts, wading around in some bug infested rice paddy

Those Troops called out to save another country from ruin.

Those that drove hundreds of miles in a sandstorm to free a land

 

Remember all of those Gentle souls who would never make it back home, to see that parade, to go to that cookout...

 

And hope someday, we will never have to

Charge up  a hill

Wade in a muddy trench

Storm a beach

Fly in a burning plane

And any other acts of war....

 

Remember the ones who gave all they could, so you could have a holiday today.

 

 

 

 

 

This is beautifully put.  We WILL Remember.

 

Yes sir Steve, as it should be.

Just a quiet bump...that time of year, again....

This is a bump of sorts.    Just got back from a Funeral Service for a cousin of mine.    Army Veteran, served in Vietnam, he was 71.   Born in March of 1945. 

 

 

Seems like we are burying way too many of these gentle souls, lately.....

 

Stand easy, and Remember them....

Just a little bump for this little story......

How many here wore this hat?

Afraid mine is a tad old....

Thanks Steven for the tribute & reminder!

Just a quiet bump....so when some that pass by a local graveyard.....they will understand why all those flags are there...and why the flag flies at 1/2 mast.....

Thank you for the bump Steve.

Thank you!

Time for that yearly BUMP again....getting to be a lot fewer of us.....