A 21 Club Veterans Day Tribute

[Powder Monkey]

“My family is with me. They wanted to come with me today. To be honest with you, I’m not sure how I feel coming back here. Every day I think about what you said to me that day on the bridge. I tried to live my life the best I could. I hope that it was enough. I hope that in your eyes, I have “earned” what all of you have done for me.” ---- Pvt. Ryan



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Uncle Ralph
101st Airborne
Operations Overlord and Market Garden


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Dad
OSS
European Theater of Operations


Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Uncle Ralph. Bravo Zulu. At ease, fellas.

[oldman2]

We need to give thanks to all the wounderful fighting men and women who are out there prtecting our way of life. No matter what you think about the war we need to remember the ones that are giving up their lifes for america. I had a drill instructor tell me many, many years ago when I was in the Marines that you are fighting for your own country until you get there. Once there you start fighting for your own butt and for your comrades. Semper Fi. The oldman.

[Powder Monkey]

Ahmen...

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In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks so bravely singing, fly.

Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders Fields.

Take up your quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

Oh! You who sleep in Flanders Fields
Sleep sweet - to arise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And, holding high, we keep the faith
With all who died.

We cherish too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
Of the flower that blooms over the dead
In Flanders Fields.

And now the torch of poppy red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson ye have wrought
In Flanders Fields