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Mark Hulette
02-09-2004, 2:39 PM
I received this in an e-mail and it of course immediately brought to mind the sacrifice all of our service people are giving for OUR freedom. It will serve as a reminder as I cut, drill, glue, turn, sand and finish a small token of my gratitude intended for someone I may never be afforded the priviledge to meet face to face. (I hope it's OK to post this, Keith.)

May it serve to inspire others as it has me.



I watched the flag pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze.

A young Marine 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 died at sea
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't 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.

Enjoy Your Freedom & God Bless Our Troops
And Make Sure You Thank All of Those You Know Who Have Fought To Keep US FREE.

GOD BLESS YOU ALL.

Author Unknown

Waymon Campbell
02-09-2004, 8:41 PM
Mark - Thanks for posting this. The poem sums up exactly what I felt several years ago as I stood in Arlington Cemetery listening to Taps among all those "who gave the last full measure of devotion to their country".

Waymon...