VIDEO How Much Hell Is War? – Truth About Memorial Day – Remember, Never Forget What Soldiers Do

How Much Is War Hell?

May 24, 2017

From Nam Vet 0331 Marine Grunt, on a comment on “My War, by Fleabaggs”:

Thanks Mike…Here are some edgy poems written in the early 70’s when the wounds were open and the memories still bleeding. I don’t know if Robert will allow the first one it has some profanity…I don’t talk like that anymore, but I did then, its a blunt raw poem about war. These have been locked away a long time.

Got to Pray…Got to Kill

Crossing stagnant marshes
leeches take turns with the mosquitoes
sucking our blood
flies are swarming
over spots of flesh
festering with jungle rot

a 155 booby trap blew Thomas apart
we just found his boot
with his foot still in it

monsoon season is here
patrols every day
ambushes every night
we hump in the rain
and sleep in the mud

sniper got the lieutenant
right through the forehead

got mortared again
lost three men

we fought all day
torched a vill
found an old mama-san
who was setting a bobby trap for us
it blew her hands off
we just stared as she bled to death
she just glared back

stepped over ole Luke the gook
burnt, charred and gooey by napalm
we call ’em crispy critters

watched the funeral of an eight year old boy
in the vill at hill 65
the V.C. had slit his throat
because his father had helped us

I’ve got the screaming shits again
Had to slit my cammies always squatting
Doc gave me some tiny white pills
told me to eat C-rat cheese
begged, borrowed and stole C-rat toilet paper
my asshole is a faucet…

dry season is here
it was 114 degrees yesterday
humped fourteen hours
seven dudes passed out

platoon got ambushed
purple hearts for everybody
lost half my gun team
and most of the squad
was hit tee tee
by a B-40
but greased their ass
payback is a motherfucker

second platoon was overrun
on no-name hill
gooks in the wire!
Most of the platoon
was K.I.A.
N.V.A. took Tex alive
cut off his balls
and sliced him open
Fuck the Geneva Convention

what’s left of the company
got three days R&R in China Beach
beer and steak
boom, boom and dope
more nicky new guys
back in the bush

on a patrol
lost one man
had a million dollar wound
but he died of shock!
he only had two weeks in country
can’t remember his name

big operation
buck, buck two solid weeks
105s, 155s, phantoms and Puff the Magic Dragon
saved our asses
played some heavy rock and roll
with my lady M-60

in country five months
out of the six I came with
I’m the only one left…

Hear back in the world
Jody has been busy
And the long hairs are rioting.
If I make it back
gonna kick some ass and take some names

Doors got a new jam
“It’s all over for the unknown soldier”
Blood Sweat and Tears got a new jam
“And When I Die”
It’s a rock and roll war

fuck it, it don’t mean nothing

on a four man killer team
we did the J.O.B.
get some Mac Marine
payback is still a motherfucker

Drew a bulls eye on the back
of my flak jacket
Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke
on my helmet I wrote
Kill First, Die Last, Burn and Destroy
so much for their hearts and minds

the company assaulted on line
swept through a V.C. vill
it was a “Search and Destroy”
but we got it reversed again…

the odds are crazy
don’t think I’ll make my twelve and twenty

company got hit
sweeping through Dodge City
Beacou Med-Vacs
more nicky new guys

I’m in my seventh month
getting close to being short

nothing to eat but C-rats
nothing to drink but river water
haven’t washed in weeks
got use to the smell
but my skin is crawling
dream of frosty vanilla milkshakes
and women with round eyes and big tits

on a patrol
it rained grenades
I got hit again
two weeks on Hill 327
14 nights in a hospital bed!
but they sent me back

during a “Search and Destroy”
all we found were booby traps
lost four men
my old buddies are gone
dead, wounded or crazy
got to saddle up
got to hump
got to dig in
got to stay alive
got to pray
got to kill

it don’t mean nothing.

The Casualty

I laid between the crisp white sheets
trapped in the folds
of the hospital corners
bleeding from wounds
no one could see
dreaming
sweating
floundering
in the surreal nightmare
of my fears, trauma and remarkable survival…
a scarred statistic
unconsciously mourning
his dead youth (Killed In Action)
and not really sure of anything
especially all
once held to be noble
staring up at the ceiling
hour after day after week
counting the cracks
in my mind

Who Was I … What Had I Become?

5 a.m. in Kennedy airport
sitting alone sipping coffee
in an almost empty terminal
staring blankly
trembling slightly
a few silent travelers hurry past
ignoring the slumped teenager
who stared at nothing
but felt everything

In a glass wall reflection
I saw a stranger
stiff in the uniform of his country
owning the heart of a frightened child
and the eyes of a ruthless survivor
a man-boy
caught in a whirlpool of emotions
drowning in a sea of blood
spinning…spinning…lost

The past overwhelmed the present
death and hate battled relief and gratitude
blood lust and gore haunted the survivor
nightmares smothered reality
(reality…what the hell is reality?)
pain mingled with confused fear
who was I…what had I become?

It was time to leave
a moment I had prayed to see for so long
and yet
an empty numbness ached
it was so hard to rise
a weight crushing, grinding me down
hailing a taxi
I headed home
nervous and worried
I had survived the war, but
who was I…what had I become?

All That I Wanted … All That I Found

I wanted to experience life
instead I destroyed it
I wanted to become a man
but became a guerrilla
I wanted to be brave
but became crazy
I wanted to be strong
but turned cold and hard
I wanted to follow my conscience and convictions
but lived by raw animal instincts
I wanted to help defeat my country’s enemies
but found my country didn’t care
I wanted to do what was right
and almost drowned in the wrongs
I wanted to be a hero
but returned a haunted casualty

from the rose colored glasses
of a teenaged idealist
to the sunken glazed stare
of a shell shocked veteran
all that I wanted
and all that I found
are questions screamed in my mind
that never make a sound

My Rage is Blind and So Is My Country

I am sorry
the grinning boy who left
returned such an angry young man
trapped in a gun barrel
impaled on the flag
dreaming with ghosts
and covered with scars
you could never see
never touch
never comprehend

My stolen youth
shattered ideals
broken dreams
and dead eyes
don’t belong anymore
to your pampered Pepsi generation
with their fists in the air
and their heads in the sand

It’s no one’s fault
your love couldn’t kiss
the blood off my hands
or calm the horrors
that scream in my sleep
or soothe the torment
of my betrayed patriotism
or hide your revulsion
from my private hell

I am sorry
your pained doe eyes
wept and pleaded
for the cold hard man
to put down his drink and leave
and for the grinning boy to return
but their innocence couldn’t see
he was killed in action
sent home
and buried alive
by his country’s hostile indifference

I am sorry
my back is to the wall
as my angry pen
spits out these words
but…
the war has stolen my tears
turned my heart into a rock
marooned me with my own blood lust
and left your eyes
reflecting a violent stranger
that scares us both

I’m sorry
your hidden romance
and rebound marriage
to my secret understudy
made it all seem
like a poorly written soap opera
but the show must go on!

Now I am where I need to be
alone
and a thousand miles away
from yesterday
fighting a war in my head
and healing slowly
so very, very slowly
there’s no other way
there’s no one to blame
my country is blind
and so is my rage.

The Unwritten Poem, By the Forgotten Man

Remember the night we first met
and I kept staring
you thought I liked your girlfriend
instead of you
but I didn’t

remember our first date
the picnic at the park
you pushed me in the pond
and laughed while I almost drowned
but I didn’t

remember the first time we made love
it just happened by itself
you were afraid
and thought I was using you
but I didn’t

remember that summer night
we held each other and cried
because we were so happy
and you thought we were being silly
but I didn’t

remember that big fight
and the things we said we didn’t mean
I drove away cursing
and you thought we’d break up
but I didn’t

remember our wedding day
and the joy we shared
we held one another all night
and kissed for hours
you said I fell asleep first
but I didn’t

remember when I answered the call
how brave you were
we talked about our plans
the children we would have
and the life we would live
when I came home from Vietnam
but I didn’t

https://lisaandrews1968.wordpress.com/2017/05/24/he-said-that-52317/

He Said That? 5/23/17


cemetary military graves

Southern women scattered spring flowers on graves of both northern Union and southern Confederate soldiers of the Civil War in which over a half-million died. Many places claimed to have held the original Memorial Day, such as:

  • Warrenton, Virginia
  • Columbus, Georgia
  • Savannah, Georgia
  • Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
  • Boalsburg, Pennsylvania
  • Waterloo, New York

One such place was Charleston, South Carolina, where a mass grave was uncovered of 257 Union soldiers who had died in a prison camp. On May 1, 1865, former slaves organized a parade, led by 2,800 singing black children, and reburied the soldiers with honor in gratitude for their freedom.

In 1868, General John A. Logan, commander of the Civil War veterans’ organization “the Grand Army of the Republic,” called for a Decoration Day to be observed annually on May 30. President James Garfield’s only executive order was in 1881 where he gave government workers May 30 off so they could decorate the graves of those who died in the Civil War.

During World War I, a Canadian Expeditionary gunner and medical officer, John McCrae, fought in the Second Battle of Ypres near Flanders, Belgium. Describing the battle as a “nightmare,” as the enemy made one of the first chlorine gas attacks, John McCrae wrote: “For seventeen days and seventeen nights none of us have had our clothes off, nor our boots even, except occasionally. In all that time while I was awake, gunfire and rifle fire never ceased for sixty seconds. … And behind it all was the constant background of the sights of the dead, the wounded, the maimed, and a terrible anxiety lest the line should give way.”

Finding one of his friends killed, John McCrae helped bury him along with the other dead in a field. Noticing the field covered with poppy flowers, he composed the famous Memorial Day poem, “In Flanders Fields”:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

After World War I, in 1921, President Warren Harding had the remains of an unknown soldier killed in France buried in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington Cemetery. Inscribed on the Tomb is the phrase: “Here rests in honored glory an American soldier known but to God.”

Since 1921, it has been the tradition for presidents to lay a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, which is guarded 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. The number 21 being the highest salute, the sentry takes 21 steps, faces the tomb for 21 seconds, turns and pauses 21 seconds, then retraces his steps.

Memorial Day grew to honor all who gave their lives defending America’s freedom, including soldiers from:

  • The Spanish-American War
  • World War I
  • World War II
  • Korean War
  • Vietnam War
  • Desert Storm
  • War against Islamic Terror, and up to current conflicts

In 1968, Memorial Day was moved to the last Monday in May.

At the Memorial Day ceremony, May 31, 1993, President Bill Clinton remarked: “The inscription on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier says that he is ‘Known only to God.’ But that is only partly true. While the soldier’s name is known only to God, we know a lot about him. We know he served his country, honored his community, and died for the cause of freedom. And we know that no higher praise can be assigned to any human being than those simple words. … In the presence of those buried all around us, we ask the support of all Americans in the aid and blessing of God Almighty.”

In 1958, President Eisenhower placed soldiers in the tomb from WWII and the Korean War.

In 1984, President Ronald Reagan placed a soldier from the Vietnam War in the tomb. DNA test later identified him as pilot Michael Blassie, a graduate of St. Louis University High School, 1966 and the U.S. Air Force Academy, 1970, whose A-37B Dragonfly was shot down near An Loc, South Vietnam. In 1998, Michael Blassie was reburied at Jefferson Memorial Cemetery, St. Louis, Missouri.

In his 1923 Memorial Address, President Calvin Coolidge stated: “There can be no peace with the forces of evil. Peace comes only through the establishment of the supremacy of the forces of good. That way lies through sacrifice. … ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’”

Charles Michael Province, U.S. Army, wrote the poem:

It is the Soldier, not the minister
Who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the Soldier, not the reporter
Who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the Soldier, not the poet
Who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer
Who has given us freedom to protest.

It is the Soldier, not the lawyer
Who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the Soldier, not the politician
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

In his Memorial Day address, May 31, 1923, President Calvin Coolidge said: “Settlers came here from mixed motives. … Generally defined, they were seeking a broader freedom. They were intent upon establishing a Christian commonwealth in accordance to the principle of self-government. … It has been said that God sifted the nations that He might send choice grain into the wilderness…”

Calvin Coolidge continued: “They had a genius for organized society on the foundations of piety, righteousness, liberty, and obedience of the law. … Who can fail to see in it the hand of destiny? Who can doubt that it has been guided by a Divine Providence?”

An anti-slavery politician during the Civil War was Abraham Lincoln’s Secretary of State, William H. Seward. The same night Lincoln was shot, an accomplice of John Wilkes Booth broke into Seward’s home and wounded him in an attempted assassination. Born May 16, 1801, William Henry Seward had been governor of the state of New York, 1839-43; and U.S. Senator 1849-61. Seward was Secretary of State during the War between the States, 1861-65, and during reconstruction under President Andrew Johnson, 1865-69.

William Henry Seward stated: “I do not believe human society, including not merely a few persons in any state, but whole masses of men, ever have attained, or ever can attain, a high state of intelligence, virtue, security, liberty, or happiness without the Holy Scriptures; even the whole hope of human progress is suspended on the ever-growing influence of the Bible.”

Seward stated in his oration, “The Destiny of America”: “Shall we look to the sacred desk? Yes, indeed; for it is of Divine institution, and is approved by human experience. The ministers of Christ, inculcating Divine morals, under Divine authority, with Divine sanction, and sustained and aided by special cooperating influences of the Divine Spirit, are now carrying further and broadly onward the great work of the renewal of the civilization of the world, and its emancipation from superstition and despotism.”

William Henry Seward negotiated the purchase of Alaska from Russia, which would not have happened had it not been for the Crimean War near the Black Sea.

The Crimean War was memorialized in Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem, “The Charge of the Light Brigade” when a mistaken command sent British cavalry riding directly into Russian cannons.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!
‘Charge for the guns!’ he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred. …

After over a half-million deaths, the Crimean War ended with the British alliance defeating the Russians in 1856.

Many wounded were cared for by Florence Nightingale, pioneer of the nursing profession. She was known as “The Lady with the Lamp” for making her rounds at night to check on the soldiers.

Discover more of Bill Federer’s eye-opening books and videos in the WND Superstore!

After losing the Crimea, Russia feared Britain would try to expand their North American territory of British Columbia into Alaska. Rather than let Britain get Alaska, Russia sold 586,412 square miles to the United States in 1867 for $7.2 million – about two cents per acre. Alaska was the second largest land purchase in history – the largest being the Louisiana Purchase of 828,000 square miles in 1803, and the third being the Mexican Cession of 520,000 square miles in 1848.

Alaska was thought to be of no value so the purchase was called Seward’s Folly since Secretary of State William Seward had negotiated the treaty. Only after Alaska was discovered to be rich in natural resources was appreciation shown to William Seward.

William Seward served as vice president of the American Bible Society, stating in 1836: “I know not how long a republican government can flourish among a great people who have not the Bible; the experiment has never been tried; but this I do know: that the existing government of this country never could have had existence but for the Bible. And, further, I do, in my conscience, believe that if at every decade of years a copy of the Bible could be found in every family in the land its republican institutions would be perpetuated.”

Brought to you by AmericanMinute.com.

http://www.wnd.com/2017/05/remember-never-forget-what-soldiers-do/


The Truth About Memorial Day


 

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About ror1774

This Blog is for modern day Patriots who want to Reclaim Our Republic and put it on the right path with a foundation of our Constitution and our Creator God.
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6 Responses to VIDEO How Much Hell Is War? – Truth About Memorial Day – Remember, Never Forget What Soldiers Do

  1. Brittius says:

    Reblogged this on Brittius.

    Like

  2. Pingback: The Weekly Headlines – My Daily Musing

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