A few military poems. I hope you all enjoy them.

Discussion in 'United We Stand' started by kc10family, Dec 10, 2005.

  1. kc10family

    kc10family <marquee><font color=cc00cc>Fly Chick</marquee><br

    Jun 21, 2005
    The Average Infantryman

    The average age of the Infantryman is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.

    He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.

    He listens to rock and roll or hip hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

    He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he
    can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less-in the
    dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.

    He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a
    professional. He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.

    He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity.

    He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low. He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

    He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and
    still find ironic humor in it all. He has wept in public and in private,
    for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

    He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

    Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.

    He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.

    Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.


    A Tribute To Military Spouses"

    Over the years I have talked a lot about military spouses,
    how special they are and the price they pay for freedom too.

    The funny thing about it, is most military spouses don't consider themselves
    different from other spouses. They do what they have to do, bound together
    not by blood or merely friendship, but with a shared spirit whose origin is
    in the very essence of what love truly is. Is there truly a difference? You
    have to decide for yourself.

    Other spouses get married and look forward to building equity in a home and
    putting down family roots. Military spouses get married and know they'll
    live in base housing or rent, and their roots must be short so they can be
    transplanted frequently.Other spouses decorate a home with flair and
    personality that will last a lifetime.

    Military spouses decorate a home with flare tempered with the knowledge that
    no two base houses have the same size windows or same size rooms. Curtains
    have to be flexible and multiple sets are a plus. Furniture must fit like
    puzzle pieces.Other spouses have immaculate living rooms and are seldom
    used. Military spouses have immaculate living room/dining room combos. The
    coffee table got a scratch or two moving from Germany, but it still looks
    pretty good.

    Other spouses say good-bye to their spouse for a business trip and know they
    won't see them for a week. They are lonely, but can survive. Military
    spouses say good-bye to their deploying spouse and know that they won't see
    them for a month, or for a remote, a year. They are lonely, but they will

    Other spouses, when a washer hose blows off, call Maytag and then write a
    check out for getting the hose reconnected. Military spouses will cut the
    water off and fix it themselves.Other spouses get used to saying hello to
    friends they see all the time. Military spouses get used to saying good-bye
    to friends made the last two years.

    Other spouses worry about whether their child will be class president next
    year. Military spouses worry about whether their child will be accepted in
    yet another new school next year and whether that school will be the worst
    in the city...again.

    Other spouses can count on spouse participation in special events,
    birthdays, anniversaries, concerts, football games, graduation, and even the
    birth of a child. Military spouses only count on each other; because they
    realize that the Flag has to come first if freedom is to survive. It has to
    be that way.

    Other spouses put up yellow ribbons when the troops are imperiled across the
    globe and take them down when the troops come home. Military spouses wear
    yellow ribbons around their hearts and they never go away.

    Other spouses worry about being late for Mom's Thanksgiving dinner. Military
    spouses worry about getting back from Japan in time for Dad's funeral.And
    other spouses are touched by the television program showing an elderly lady
    putting a card down in the front of a long, black wall that has names on it.
    The card simply says, "Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. You would have been sixty
    today." A military spouse is the lady with the card. The wall is the Vietnam

    I would never say military spouses are better or worse than other spouses
    are. But I will say there is a difference. And I will say that our country
    asks more of military spouses than asked of other spouses. And I will say
    without hesitation that military spouses pay just as high a price for
    freedom as do their active duty husbands or wives. Perhaps the price they
    pay is even higher.

    Dying in service to our Country isn't near as hard as loving someone who has
    died in service to our Country, and having to live without them.
    God Bless our military spouses for all they freely give...
    And God Bless America.

    By Colonel Steven Arrington

    The Soldier

    I want you to close your eyes and picture in your mind... the soldier at Valley Forge, as he holds his musket in his bloody hands. He stands barefoot in
    the snow, starved from lack of food, wounded from months of battle and emotionally scarred from the eternity away from his family surrounded by nothing but death and carnage of war. He stands tough, with fire in his eyes and victory on his breath. He looks at us now in anger and disgust and tells us this... I gave you a birthright of freedom born in the Constitution and now your children graduate too illiterate to read it. I fought in the snow barefoot to give you the freedom to vote and you stay at home because it rains.
    I left my family destitute to give you the freedom of speech and you remain silent on critical issues, because it might be bad for business.
    I orphaned my children to give you a government to serve you and it has stolen democracy from the people.
    It's the soldier not the reporter who gives you the freedom of the press. It's the soldier not the poet who gives you the freedom of speech. It's the soldier not the campus organizer who allows you to demonstrate. It's the soldier who salutes the flag, serves the flag, whose coffin is draped with the flag that allows the protester to burn the flag!!! "Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen."

    Who’s Got Your Back!

    I am a small and precious child, my dad’s been sent to fight…

    The only place I’ll see his face, is in my dreams at night.

    He will be gone too many days for my young mind to keep track.

    I may be sad, but I am proud.

    My daddy’s got your back.

    I am a crying mother.

    My son may go to war…

    My mind is filled with worries that I have never known before.

    Everyday I try to keep my thoughts from turning black.

    I may be scared, but I am proud.

    My son has got your back.

    I am a strong and loving wife, with a husband soon to go.

    There are times I’m terrified in a way most never know.

    I bite my lip, and force a smile as I watch my husband pack…

    My heart may break, but I am proud.

    My husband got your back.

    I am a soldier, Serving Proudly, standing tall.

    I fight for freedom, yours and mine by answering this call.

    I do my job while knowing, the thanks it sometimes lacks.

    Say a prayer that I’ll come home. It’s me who’s got your back.

    Christmas Poem

    Twas the night before Christmas
    He lived all alone
    in a one bedroom house made of
    plaster and stone.

    I had come down the chimney
    with presents to give,
    and to see just who
    in this home did live.

    I looked all about,
    a strange sight I did see,
    no tinsel, no presents,
    not even a tree.

    No stocking by mantle,
    just boots filled with sand,
    on the wall hung pictures
    of far distant lands.

    With medals and badges,
    awards of all kinds,
    a sober thought
    came through my mind.

    For this house was different,
    it was dark and dreary,
    I found the home of a soldier,
    once I could see clearly.

    The soldier lay sleeping,
    silent, alone,
    curled up on the floor
    in this one bedroom home.

    The face was so gentle,
    the room is such disorder,
    not how I pictured
    a United States soldier.

    Was this the hero
    of whom I 'd just read?
    Curled up on a poncho,
    the floor for a bed?

    I realized the families
    that I saw this night,
    owed their lives to these soldiers
    who were willing to fight.

    Soon round the world,
    the children would play,
    and grown-ups would celebrate
    a bright Christmas day.

    They all enjoyed freedom
    each month of the year,
    because of the soldiers,
    like the one lying here.

    I couldn't help wonder
    how many lay alone,
    on a cold Christmas eve
    in a land far from home.

    The very thought
    brought a tear to my eye,
    I dropped to my knees
    and started to cry.

    The soldier awakened
    and I heard a rough voice,
    "Santa don't cry,
    this life is my choice;

    I fight for freedom,
    I don't ask for more,
    My life is my God,
    my country, my Corps."

    The soldier rolled over
    and drifted to sleep,
    I couldn't control it
    I continued to weep.

    I kept watch for hours,
    so silent and still
    and we both shivered
    from the cold night's chill.

    I didn't want to leave
    on that cold, dark night,
    this guardian of honor
    so willing to fight.

    Then the soldier rolled over,
    with a voice soft and pure,
    whispered, "Carry on Santa,
    It's Christmas day, all is secure."

    One look at my watch,
    and I knew he was right.
    "Merry Christmas my friend
    and to all a good night."
  2. PrincessaC

    PrincessaC Dreaming of Disney!

    Jul 4, 2004

    Thank You.. I enjoyed reading these
  3. transparant

    transparant <font color=red>Oh say does that star-spangled ban

    Sep 8, 2004
    Thank you for posting those :flower:

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