Didn’t know about and consequently didn’t wear a poppy.
To both my grandfathers who fought in WW1.
To my five grand uncles who both fought at Gallipoli and the two who died in the mud in France. 
We don’t do poppies in the US, but I did put a Thank You Veterans button on muy bag. I did say a prayer for my uncle Bob (Pacific Theater, WWII) and uncle Don (Korea). They both came home, but Don was never the same. (Brother #3, my dad, was an artilleryman between Korea and Vietnam and never got farther than Alabama, but the segregated South was quite a culture shock too.) My brother’s an Air Force reservist right now, but not in a combat role.
I also stopped and talked to a couple of Vietnam vets I saw, little hats and all, standing by the war memorials in Valhalla (NY, no gods that I saw but a nice little town). I thanked them for their service and we chatted for a while. It was nice to shake hands with history.
Thanks for the poems.
If you really want to honor our veterans, forget poppies. A tragic number of these men, who were once the strong protectors and providers of their families, have been stored away in nursing homes. They sit robbed of power and dignity, forgotten and waiting to die. Visit these places and let them know that their service to us is not forgotten.
To any veterans of any war out there reading this thread,
Thank you!
On preview, DocCathode said it even better.
Spoons, I thought about posting part of Vimy. I’d post more of it, but I don’t want to break board rules.
I will submit a nod and a toast to those families who support and keep those fine gentlemen and ladies on the front lines going. There’s families behind those Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines that keep them going, and they fight too.
And may God tend to the souls of those families who’ve heard their loved ones’ final muster call. ::salute::
Tripler
It’s not a “day off”. It’s a “day to remember and reflect”.
Stay with me, God. The night is dark,
The night is cold: my little spark
Of courage dies. The night is long;
Be with me, God, and make me strong.
I love a game. I love a fight.
I hate the dark; I love the light.
I love my child; I love my wife.
I am no coward. I love Life,
Life with its change of mood and shade.
I want to live. I’m not afraid,
But me and mine are hard to part;
Oh, unknown God, lift up my heart.
You stilled the waters at Dunkirk
And saved Your Servants. All your work
Is wonderful, dear God. You strode
Before us down that dreadful road,
We were alone, and hope had fled;
We loved our country and our dead,
And could not shame them; so we stayed
The course, and were not much afraid.
Dear God, that nightmare road! And then
That sea! We got there – we were men.
My eyes were blind, my feet were torn,
My soul sang like a bird at dawn!
I knew that death is but a door.
I knew what we were fighting for:
Peace for the kids, our brothers freed,
A kinder world, a cleaner breed.
I’m but the son my mother bore,
A simple man, and nothing more.
But – God of strength and gentleness,
Be pleased to make me nothing less.
Help me, O God, when Death is near
To mock the haggard face of fear,
That when I fall – if fall I must –
My soul may triumph in the Dust.
- Author unknown. This poem was found in a slit trench after the battle of El Agheila (North Africa) in January 1942.
This had as much impact on me as did “Flanders Fields” – I first came across it in a high school literature text and have never seen it printed anywhere since. I felt strongly enough about this single poem that I never returned the textbook at the end of the year.
Grandfather at Vimy. Father in the Battle of the Atlantic. Husband and son both served honourably in peacetime.
Thank you all.
It’s the land of the free, because it is also the home of the brave.
Your blood is precious beyond price. If it was spilled in the cause of freedom, not a drop of it was wasted.
Thank you to all our veterans.
Regards,
Shodan