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Mango
03-08-2002, 10:20 AM
I found this poem online, and think it is appropriate to dedicate it to all service me and women, past and present. They paid the ultimate sacrifice, and with the most recent deaths of US Service men and women I just thought that I would share this with as many people as possible.
The author is unknown, if someone knows please let me know.

**I think you can spare a minute of your life to read this.

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Just a Simple Soldier

He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he had fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And tho’ sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened,
For they knew whereof he spoke.

But we’ll hear his tales no longer,
For ol’ Bob has passed away,
And the world’s a little poorer,
For a soldier died today.

He won’t be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife,
For he lived and ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Quietly going on his way,
And the world won’t note his passing,
‘Tho a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories,
From the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier,
Goes unnoticed and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land
Some jerk who breaks his promise,
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow,
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to save his Country,
And offers up his life?

The politician’s stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are sometimes disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.


While the ordinary soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It’s so easy to forget them
For it is so long ago,
That our Bobs and Als and Johnnys
Went to battle, but we know.

It was not the politicians,
With their compromises and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom,
That our Country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some copout
With his ever-waffling stand?

Or would you want a soldier,
Who has sworn to defend,
His home, his kin, and Country,
And would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us,
We may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict,
Then we find the soldier’s part,
Is to clean up all the troubles,
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor,
While he’s here to hear the praise,
Then at least let’s give him homage,
At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline,
In the paper that might say:
“Our Country is in mourning,
For a Soldier Died Today."

dogEmedic
03-08-2002, 11:11 AM
Wow,
that's one of the better ones I have read, that will make you stop and think how we forget the people that really do alot for us.

Hasty8
03-08-2002, 11:12 AM
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salibury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap while any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispian's day.

oldsoldier
03-08-2002, 11:46 AM
Nuff said.

slateman
03-08-2002, 06:30 PM
Hasty8: Might that passage be from Henry V?

Good passages

shartley
03-08-2002, 06:44 PM
Thank you.