Sunday, September 09, 2007


I salute the unsung heroes of the bloodstained past, of men who tried, who fought and died for peace that could not last. They bought the book. They took the hook of patriotic glory. Now let me tell about their hell. This is their story.

There was Jim. Remember him? He had guts aplenty. The enemy shot him. A bullet got him. He was only twenty.

There was John. Gentle John. He killed but hated killing. He cried each time a soldier died. The deed was not fulfilling. John survived. He's still alive. Spared of death around him. He fought up to the very end. This is how they found him. No legs. No arms. One eye to see. One heart that's strong, still beating. Prayed to the gods. He beat the odds. He's living, breathing, eating. He sits and stares. Nobody cares to hear his tale of glory that left him a shred above the dead. No one hears his story.

There was Bill, strong-willed Bill. The enemy enslaved him. They pried, they tried to break him down. He lied, but that's what saved him.

How many men! Some lived, Some died. Most served their country gladly. Those who left, not to return. are grieved, remembered sadly. World War One and World War Two, Korea, Viet Nam, Desert Storm, Terrorism, Middle East, Iraq. Will next be all Islam? Will good men cry. "No! Not again!" Will killings ever cease? Will ever there be sanity? Will ever there be peace?


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