Take a moment of your time to view.
http://www.cryofthespirit.com/thesoldier.html
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
A letter home from the Front
This Soldiers name is Mike, and we will leave it at that. Mike is a Chopper pilot in Iraq.
He starts his return home this Christmas after 15 months of serving not only his country, but his friends, neighbors, and fellow countrymen.
This is his final letter home before his return.
Family and Friends,
In the next week, most of my comrades and I will complete our tour of duty in Baghdad and begin our journey home to those we love and the way of life we battled to preserve. Unfortunately, not all of us will enjoy the homecoming we dreamed of from the moment we arrived. Many are now at rest among the generations of heroes at Arlington. Many more have returned to their home towns across America, covered with the Stars and Stripes of Old Glory, commemorating their devotion to the hopes and dreams of many current and future American generations.
In October of 2006, we were sent to Iraq to hunt Evil and deliver hope in an area of the world where Islamic Extremists desperately feared that Freedom and Democracy might take hold. Street to street and house to house your sons and daughters hunted, fought, built, bled and died. In doing so, Al-Qieda and other extremists were killed or captured on an unprecedented scale, bringing about hope in the day to day lives of the Iraqi people not seen in years. Mothers and daughters are now shopping freely in open markets and toy stores. Fathers and sons are enjoying city wide soccer tournaments and afternoon outings in the many city parks and playgrounds now open without the constant threat of suicide bombs and random sniper fire. By no means am I saying that Baghdad is now the safest place in the world to raise a family, but it is certainly far from the war torn city of chaos and me-hem often portrayed on TV and in the newspapers.
Our achievements have been many and our hard fought progress indisputable. Scores of my comrades made it possible with their lives, their limbs and their peace of mind. As you celebrate this Christmas and New Years with your family, I ask only that you not forget my brothers and sisters in arms, particularly those who remain on the hunt, so that the rest of us might enjoy this holiday season at home with those we love.
Thank You Mike, and those like you!
You may not like War, but our life would cease without Warriors like him.
Merry Christmas Mike.
My thanks to his family for their sacrifice while he was away!
He starts his return home this Christmas after 15 months of serving not only his country, but his friends, neighbors, and fellow countrymen.
This is his final letter home before his return.
Family and Friends,
In the next week, most of my comrades and I will complete our tour of duty in Baghdad and begin our journey home to those we love and the way of life we battled to preserve. Unfortunately, not all of us will enjoy the homecoming we dreamed of from the moment we arrived. Many are now at rest among the generations of heroes at Arlington. Many more have returned to their home towns across America, covered with the Stars and Stripes of Old Glory, commemorating their devotion to the hopes and dreams of many current and future American generations.
In October of 2006, we were sent to Iraq to hunt Evil and deliver hope in an area of the world where Islamic Extremists desperately feared that Freedom and Democracy might take hold. Street to street and house to house your sons and daughters hunted, fought, built, bled and died. In doing so, Al-Qieda and other extremists were killed or captured on an unprecedented scale, bringing about hope in the day to day lives of the Iraqi people not seen in years. Mothers and daughters are now shopping freely in open markets and toy stores. Fathers and sons are enjoying city wide soccer tournaments and afternoon outings in the many city parks and playgrounds now open without the constant threat of suicide bombs and random sniper fire. By no means am I saying that Baghdad is now the safest place in the world to raise a family, but it is certainly far from the war torn city of chaos and me-hem often portrayed on TV and in the newspapers.
Our achievements have been many and our hard fought progress indisputable. Scores of my comrades made it possible with their lives, their limbs and their peace of mind. As you celebrate this Christmas and New Years with your family, I ask only that you not forget my brothers and sisters in arms, particularly those who remain on the hunt, so that the rest of us might enjoy this holiday season at home with those we love.
Thank You Mike, and those like you!
You may not like War, but our life would cease without Warriors like him.
Merry Christmas Mike.
My thanks to his family for their sacrifice while he was away!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Tis the Season
While we are so busy with getting ready for Christmas it is easy for some to loose sight of some simple truths. 1st is the fact that we are able to celebrate this Holiday season as we wish because of the small percentage of our population that stands the line between US and our enemys.
The embers glowed softly and in their dim light
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas that 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
The embers glowed softly and in their dim light
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas that 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Whew!
I never thought it would be so difficult to keep up, and post on a blog page.
First of all I'm not a writer, but I am a thinker. So even if the thoughts come easy its not so easy to make my 2 index fingers poke the little buttons that make the words show up on the screen. (That took a couple of minutes its self).
So I really need to be in the mood, and have something to say.
When I started this sooooo long ago.......(That's a funny!) I thought it would be only for my participation in the Patriot Guard Riders. Not gonna happen.
It will also include just about anything else that comes from my participation with the PGR.
For example.....Did you know that a dog can separate countless odors it is smelling at the moment, and can single out one, and ignore the others. Kinda like when we were kids, and Mom was trying to tell us whatever, and all we could hear was the TV.
Going across water, or up a tree wont throw them off either!
Some of these creations of God can even tell if your health is a bit, or a lot off from being normal.
Amazing what you can learn just by getting out of the house and hanging with some friends!!!
OK my fingers are way tired now.....stay tuned
DC out
First of all I'm not a writer, but I am a thinker. So even if the thoughts come easy its not so easy to make my 2 index fingers poke the little buttons that make the words show up on the screen. (That took a couple of minutes its self).
So I really need to be in the mood, and have something to say.
When I started this sooooo long ago.......(That's a funny!) I thought it would be only for my participation in the Patriot Guard Riders. Not gonna happen.
It will also include just about anything else that comes from my participation with the PGR.
For example.....Did you know that a dog can separate countless odors it is smelling at the moment, and can single out one, and ignore the others. Kinda like when we were kids, and Mom was trying to tell us whatever, and all we could hear was the TV.
Going across water, or up a tree wont throw them off either!
Some of these creations of God can even tell if your health is a bit, or a lot off from being normal.
Amazing what you can learn just by getting out of the house and hanging with some friends!!!
OK my fingers are way tired now.....stay tuned
DC out
Saturday, September 22, 2007
I could not help myself. I have become so tired of "The Facts" as presented by those that just don't get it.
This comes just a very short time after yet another shooting on a school campus where guns are not allowed for self defense.
How do you like that pepper spray now?
Physicians:
A) The number of physicians in the U.S. is 700,000.
(B) Accidental deaths caused by Physicians per year are 120,000.
(C) Accidental deaths per physician is 0.171.
Statistics courtesy of U.S. Dept of Health Human Services.
Now think about this:
Guns:
(A) The number of gun owners in the U.S. is 80,000,000. ( YES , that’s 80
Million )
(B) The number of accidental gun deaths per year, all age groups, is
1,500.
(C) The number of accidental deaths per gun owner is .000188.
Statistics courtesy of FBI
So, statistically, doctors are approximately 9,000 times more dangerous
than gun owners.
This comes just a very short time after yet another shooting on a school campus where guns are not allowed for self defense.
How do you like that pepper spray now?
Physicians:
A) The number of physicians in the U.S. is 700,000.
(B) Accidental deaths caused by Physicians per year are 120,000.
(C) Accidental deaths per physician is 0.171.
Statistics courtesy of U.S. Dept of Health Human Services.
Now think about this:
Guns:
(A) The number of gun owners in the U.S. is 80,000,000. ( YES , that’s 80
Million )
(B) The number of accidental gun deaths per year, all age groups, is
1,500.
(C) The number of accidental deaths per gun owner is .000188.
Statistics courtesy of FBI
So, statistically, doctors are approximately 9,000 times more dangerous
than gun owners.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
2007 Indiana Patriot Guard Rally
This past weekend was the 2007 Rally for the Indiana PGR.
I arrived at Russ's Barn -N- Grill (Home of the Barn Bunch) on Friday evening in the rain. I was happy to be there regardless.
I had waited since last years Rally with great anticipation. You see this is not just a spot on the map to meet, but a very very cool pace to meet. Complete with food service line, grill for hogs, stage, I believe 4 acres for camping, a shower, and facilities in the camping area. Always a fire going in the pit, a full Tattoo parlor with great artists from out of state slinging some awesome ink!
The Barn has writing all over everything. Walls, ceiling, doors, refrigerators. There is not a safe place nor need there be one. Russ encourages everyone to leave their mark some where while they are there. Decorations from barn tools to Harley parts to bar room, and just about any decorations you can think of are hanging all over the barn inside and out.
The best feature this place has is the host, and hostess. No matter if you have been there so many times your a fixture, or if its your first visit you are made to feel at home, and I do mean that. You do feel welcome at the Barn.
When I arrived Fri night the iron kettle had been pulled from the fire pit, and Chile was served. Man was it good!
Shortly after that I found myself in Russ's truck headed after an old pull behind trailer to put out in the camping area for a friend of his. I was glad to be able to help. You just never know what is next.
I just need to squeeze this info in here. Last year I spent the weekend in the Tattoo room hoping to get some ink work done.....never happened. I missed alot. So this year I have an appt for some ink, but we'll see.
Linda, and I set up the tent in a slight drizzle. Good enough lets go party!
There were I guess about 15 to 20 people there Fri night. Didn't stay up to late. We all knew we had a PGR mission in the morning. Missions come first. That's the way it is.
So off to bed a little inebriated. About 1/2 hour later I wake to a drip on my face........OHH PISS! Rain fly is not doing its job! Of coarse the rain is really coming down steady now. Well I look around and its not the only drip. I thought of heading for the truck. Naw just laid back down and hoped for the rain to let up. It did. (Thank You!)
Up in the morning, and Russ has the coffee going, and breakfast in the warmers. What a guy!!
Before we leave on our mission I helped get the hog from the walk in, and put it on the grill. He tells me it is number 17 THIS YEAR!
I think I'll take this opportunity to state that "It never sucks to be Russ"
Saturday, and the mission to follow in next post.
I arrived at Russ's Barn -N- Grill (Home of the Barn Bunch) on Friday evening in the rain. I was happy to be there regardless.
I had waited since last years Rally with great anticipation. You see this is not just a spot on the map to meet, but a very very cool pace to meet. Complete with food service line, grill for hogs, stage, I believe 4 acres for camping, a shower, and facilities in the camping area. Always a fire going in the pit, a full Tattoo parlor with great artists from out of state slinging some awesome ink!
The Barn has writing all over everything. Walls, ceiling, doors, refrigerators. There is not a safe place nor need there be one. Russ encourages everyone to leave their mark some where while they are there. Decorations from barn tools to Harley parts to bar room, and just about any decorations you can think of are hanging all over the barn inside and out.
The best feature this place has is the host, and hostess. No matter if you have been there so many times your a fixture, or if its your first visit you are made to feel at home, and I do mean that. You do feel welcome at the Barn.
When I arrived Fri night the iron kettle had been pulled from the fire pit, and Chile was served. Man was it good!
Shortly after that I found myself in Russ's truck headed after an old pull behind trailer to put out in the camping area for a friend of his. I was glad to be able to help. You just never know what is next.
I just need to squeeze this info in here. Last year I spent the weekend in the Tattoo room hoping to get some ink work done.....never happened. I missed alot. So this year I have an appt for some ink, but we'll see.
Linda, and I set up the tent in a slight drizzle. Good enough lets go party!
There were I guess about 15 to 20 people there Fri night. Didn't stay up to late. We all knew we had a PGR mission in the morning. Missions come first. That's the way it is.
So off to bed a little inebriated. About 1/2 hour later I wake to a drip on my face........OHH PISS! Rain fly is not doing its job! Of coarse the rain is really coming down steady now. Well I look around and its not the only drip. I thought of heading for the truck. Naw just laid back down and hoped for the rain to let up. It did. (Thank You!)
Up in the morning, and Russ has the coffee going, and breakfast in the warmers. What a guy!!
Before we leave on our mission I helped get the hog from the walk in, and put it on the grill. He tells me it is number 17 THIS YEAR!
I think I'll take this opportunity to state that "It never sucks to be Russ"
Saturday, and the mission to follow in next post.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Begining
This being my first post I felt it important to share the Patriot Guard Riders Mission Statement. Mostly because it is my intent to share my experiences with this fine group of Patriots, so it would be important for any one viewing this Blog to start at the begining.
Patriot Guard Riders Mission Statement
The Patriot Guard Riders is a diverse amalgamation of riders from across the nation. We have one thing in common besides motorcycles. We have an unwavering respect for those who risk their very lives for America’s freedom and security. If you share this respect, please join us.We don’t care what you ride or if you ride, what your political views are, or whether you’re a hawk or a dove. It is not a requirement that you be a veteran. It doesn't matter where you’re from or what your income is; you don’t even have to ride. The only prerequisite is Respect.Our main mission is to attend the funeral services of fallen American heroes as invited guests of the family. Each mission we undertake has two basic objectives.1. Show our sincere respect for our fallen heroes, their families, and their communities.2. Shield the mourning family and friends from interruptions created by any protestor or group of protestors.We accomplish the latter through strictly legal and non-violent means.
To those of you who are currently serving and fighting for the freedoms of others, at home and abroad, please know that we are backing you. We honor and support you with every mission we carry out, and we are praying for a safe return home for all.
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