[excon]

Hello Veterans:

Thank you.

excon

[speechlesstx]

And that includes you, ex. Thank you.

Saw this in my paper today...

Rifle squad honors vets with 57,000 goodbyes

[tomder55]

Never was so much owed by so many to so few
(Churchill)


Little known freebee...
Vets Dine Free at Applebee?s on Thursday

[speechlesstx]

Thanks tom, I called and both of our locations are participating so I spread the word.

[excon]

Hello again,

Do any of your remember Ronnie Bray from Answerway? He sent this to me.

Old Soldiers Never Die
(They simply fade away)
By Ronnie Bray

Royal Electrical & Mechanical Engineers 1952 - 1955
Royal Tank Regiment 1959-1960
Service No. 22820103


Now with steel dulled eyes
And comrades few I stand
And see what I have seen
These many years on years
Change from a war torn field
Where lay my silent friends,
Comrades in arms not old as we.

Boys,
No more than boys,
Fresh-faced and raw
And frightened by the noise
Of cannon shell and rifle crack
As we grim gritted aching teeth
And send our bullets back.

It was not death
That made us laugh
But our mortality.
For what should young men
Think of death
On mornings such as these
When from the mists of first warm sun
Rise giants churning death
Towards us roll, unannounced,
That do not know our name.

Then we were
Many more in name
And form who sported as we trained
So simple in the land's green fields
With weapons formed of harmless wood
A million years away.

Now time has eaten slowly
Those who wandered from this scene.
Each year our numbers shrink
And few to answer then
Our names called with a muted voice
Rich-tinged with pain.

We have not quite forgotten,
Though remembering is grief,
The lads we left behind
When we were granted our relief.

The war is over, lads, they said
But we could not be sure,
For every night within our peace
We hear the battle roar.
We see the faces lying there
Deep in the mud and stone
And know that death has taken those
We loved to be his own.

Our memory will not allow
The flag to be quite furled
As memories of comrades gone
Invade our unquiet world.

So many of the undead died
In different ways from them
Who lay and poured their life's blood out
On riverbank and fen.

And many a far off foreign field
Hs found a richer harvest yield
Fed by the blood of summer's boys
And winter's men.

Each one I see, each voice I hear,
In phantom ranks again
As their old comrades pause and stare
Each year, like haunted men

Now we are few,
Our health has gone,
Too few to come again.
But who will we remembering
When there's none of us remain?
Who then will hear the cries of war?
Who'll see the bloodstained face,
When each of us old comrades
Has run his earthly race?

excon

[speechlesstx]

I even remember Ronnie from the original Askme. I believe I've read that before, nice work.

[Stringer]

Hello again,

Do any of your remember Ronnie Bray from Answerway? He sent this to me.

Old Soldiers Never Die
(They simply fade away)
By Ronnie Bray

Royal Electrical & Mechanical Engineers 1952 - 1955
Royal Tank Regiment 1959-1960
Service No. 22820103


Now with steel dulled eyes
And comrades few I stand
And see what I have seen
These many years on years
Change from a war torn field
Where lay my silent friends,
Comrades in arms not old as we.

Boys,
No more than boys,
Fresh-faced and raw
And frightened by the noise
Of cannon shell and rifle crack
As we grim gritted aching teeth
And send our bullets back.

It was not death
That made us laugh
But our mortality.
For what should young men
Think of death
On mornings such as these
When from the mists of first warm sun
Rise giants churning death
Towards us roll, unannounced,
That do not know our name.

Then we were
Many more in name
And form who sported as we trained
So simple in the land’s green fields
With weapons formed of harmless wood
A million years away.

Now time has eaten slowly
Those who wandered from this scene.
Each year our numbers shrink
And few to answer then
Our names called with a muted voice
Rich-tinged with pain.

We have not quite forgotten,
Though remembering is grief,
The lads we left behind
When we were granted our relief.

The war is over, lads, they said
But we could not be sure,
For every night within our peace
We hear the battle roar.
We see the faces lying there
Deep in the mud and stone
And know that death has taken those
We loved to be his own.

Our memory will not allow
The flag to be quite furled
As memories of comrades gone
Invade our unquiet world.

So many of the undead died
In different ways from them
Who lay and poured their life’s blood out
On riverbank and fen.

And many a far off foreign field
Hs found a richer harvest yield
Fed by the blood of summer’s boys
And winter’s men.

Each one I see, each voice I hear,
In phantom ranks again
As their old comrades pause and stare
Each year, like haunted men

Now we are few,
Our health has gone,
Too few to come again.
But who will we remembering
When there’s none of us remain?
Who then will hear the cries of war?
Who’ll see the bloodstained face,
When each of us old comrades
Has run his earthly race?

excon

EX, that was exceptional and frightening at the same time.

Stringer

[twinkiedooter]

Exie - thanks for sharing that with us.