TBear's blog: "For the veterans, heros all!"

A tribute sent to me by a friend. My favorite RR quote: "They say that politics is the second oldest profession. In my experience, it bears a remarkable simiarity to the first!" You don't realize how much you might miss him, until you read and remember some of the stuff he said and stood for: "Here's my strategy on the Cold War: We win, they lose." - Ronald Reagan "The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help." - Ronald Reagan "The trouble with our liberal friends is not that they're ignorant: It's just that they know so much that isn't so." - Ronald Reagan "Of the four wars in my lifetime none came about because the U.S. was too strong." - Ronald Reagan "I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandment's would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U.S. Congress." - Ronald Reagan "The taxpayer: That's someone who works for the federal government but doesn't have to take the civil service examination." - Ronald Reagan "Government is like a baby: An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other." - Ronald Reagan "The nearest thing to eternal life we will ever see on this earth is a government program." - Ronald Reagan "I've laid down the law, though, to everyone from now on about anything that happens: no matter what time it is, wake me, even if it's in the middle of a Cabinet meeting." - Ronald Reagan "Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it." - Ronald Reagan "Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed there are many rewards, if you disgrace yourself you can always write a book. - Ronald Reagan "No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women." - Ronald Reagan "If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under." - Ronald Reagan

From the Miami Herald, July 29, 2007, true story: Police investigate the scene The 71-year-old retired Marine who opened fire on two robbers at a Plantation sub shop late Wednesday, killing one and critically wounding the other, is described as a former pilot for two presidents. ''He's in great shape,'' Wesley White said of his longtime friend, John Lovell. ``He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, he works out every day.'' Lovell was a man of action Wednesday night. According to Plantation police, two masked gunmen came into the Subway at 1949 N. Pine Rd. just after 11 p.m. There was a lone diner -- Lovell, who was finishing his meal. After robbing the cashier, the two men attempted to shove Lovell into a bathroom and rob him as well. They got his money. But then Lovell pulled his handgun, opened fire, shooting one of the thieves in the head and chest and the other in the head. * When police arrived, they found one of the men in the shop. K-9 units found the other in the bushes of a nearby business. They also found cash strewn around the front of the sandwich shop. ''There were fives and rolls of coins everywhere,'' said Detective Robert Rettig of the Plantation Police Department. Both men were taken to Broward General Medical Center, where one, Donicio Arrindell, 22, of North Lauderdale died. The other, 21-year-old Frederick Gadson of Fort Lauderdale, is in critical but stable condition. White, a longtime friend of Lovell, was not surprised to hear what happened. ''He'd give you the shirt off his back and he'd be mad if someone tried to take the shirt off your back,'' he said. White said Lovell worked as a pilot for the Marines, flying former Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson. He later worked as a pilot for Pan Am and Delta. Lovell is not married and does not have children. He is not expected to be charged, authorities said. ''He was in fear for his life,'' Rettig said. These criminals ought to realize that most men in their 70's have military backgrounds and aren't intimidated by idiots Something tells me this old Marine wasn't "in fear" even though his life was definitely at risk. Just waiting. And he better not be charged! More like rewarded. The only thing he could be charged with ... is partaking in an unfair fight. One 71 yr young marine against two punks. Two heads and one center body mass shot- good shooting!* Even better would have been to double tap them both. Let's hope the scumbag in critical condition kicks. That'll teach them to get between a marine and his meal. If not for U.S. Marines, I would have completely lost hope in America a long time ago. Don't you just love a story with a happy ending? Semper Fi!!! *Common sense suggestion: LARGER CALIBER WEAPON!

I'm over 55 and the Armed Forces say I'm too old to track down terrorists. (You can't be older than 35 to join the military.) They've got the whole thing backwards. Instead of sending 18-year-olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35. For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. If we can't kill the enemy we'll complain them into submission. "My back hurts! I'm hungry! Where's the remote?" An 18-year-old hasn't had a legal beer yet and you shouldn't go to war until you're at least old enough to drink. The average old guy, on the other hand, has consumed 126,000 gallons of beer, and a jaunt through the desert heat with a beer and an M-60 would do wonders for the old beer belly. (Note there are 24 hours in a day and 24 bottles in a case...another convenient way to measure time!) An 18-year-old doesn't like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee. If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we like soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We like them almost better than naps. They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear the Drill Sgt now, "Get down and give me ... ER ... One." Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy. I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet. An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to carry on a conversation, and to wear pants without the top of his butt crack showing and his shorts sticking out. He's hasn't figured out that a pierced tongue catches food particles, and that a 400-watt speaker in the back seat of a Honda can rupture an eardrum, and that a baseball cap has a brim to shade eyes, not the back of his head. These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten cowards who attacked us on September 11. The last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million old guys with attitudes. Share this with your senior friends. It's purposely in big type so they can read it.

Editorial An interesting perspective about our "Drive by Media." Victor Davis Hanson is a professor at Fresno State . See his credentials and a recurring quote about the military at the end of the article. Eye of the Beholder by Victor Davis Hanson War torn Iraq has about 26 million residents, a peaceful California perhaps now 35 million. The former is a violent and impoverished landscape, the latter said to be paradise on Earth. But how you envision either place to some degree depends on the eye of the beholder and is predicated on what the daily media appear to make of each. As a fifth generation Californian, I deeply love this state, but still imagine what the reaction would be if the world awoke each morning to be told that once again there were six more murders, 27 rapes, 38 arsons, 180 robberies, and 360 instances of assault in California yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day. I wonder if the headlines would scream about "Nearly 200 poor Californians butchered again this month! "How about a monthly media dose of "600 women raped in February alone!" Or try, "Over 600 violent robberies and assaults in March, with no end in sight!" Those do not even make up all of the state's yearly 200,000 violent acts that law enforcement knows about. Iraq 's judicial system seems a mess. On the eve of the war, Saddam let out 100,000 inmates from his vast prison archipelago. He himself sat in the dock months after his trial began. But imagine an Iraq with a penal system like California 's with 170,000 criminals - an inmate population larger than those of Germany , France , the Netherlands , and Singapore combined. Just to house such a shadow population costs our state nearly $7 billion a year or about the same price of keeping 40,000 Army personnel per year in Iraq . What would be the image of our Golden State if we were reminded each morning, "Another $20 million spent today on housing our criminals?" Some of California 's most recent prison scandals would be easy to sensationalize: "Guards watch as inmates are raped!" Or "Correction officer accused of having sex with underaged detainee!" And apropos of Saddam's sluggish trial, remember that our home state multiple murderer, Tookie Williams, was finally executed in December 2005 - TWENTY-SIX YEARS after he was originally sentenced. Much is made of the inability to patrol Iraq 's borders with Iran , Jordan , Kuwait , Saudi Arabia , Syria , and Turkey . But California has only a single border with a foreign nation, not six. Yet over 3 million foreigners who sneaked in illegally now live in our state. Worse, there are about 15,000 convicted alien felons incarcerated in our penal system, costing about $500 million a year. Imagine the potential tabloid headlines: "Illegal aliens in state comprise population larger than San Francisco !" or "Drugs, criminals, and smugglers given free pass into California !" Every year, over 4,000 Californians die in car crashes - more than the number of Americans lost so far in the years of combat operations in Iraq . In some sense, then, our badly maintained roads, and often poorly trained and sometimes intoxicated drivers, are even more lethal than IED's (Improvised Explosive Devices.) Perhaps tomorrow's headline might scream out at us: "300 Californians to perish this month on state highways! Hundreds more will be maimed and crippled!" In 2001, California had 32 days of power outages, despite paying nearly the highest rates for electricity in the United States . Before complaining about the smoke in Baghdad rising from private generators, think back to the run on generators in California when they were contemplated as a future part of every household's line of defense. We're told that Iraq 's finances are a mess. Yet until recently, so were California 's. Two years ago, Governor Schwarzenegger inherited a $38 billion annual budget shortfall. That could have made for strong morning newscast teasers: "Another $100 million borrowed today - $3 billion more in red ink to pile up by month's end!" So is California comparable to Iraq ? Hardly. Yet it could easily be sketched by a reporter intent on doing so as a bankrupt, crime-ridden area with murderous highways, tens of thousands of inmates, with wide-open borders. I myself recently returned home to California , without incident, from a visit to Iraq 's notorious Sunni Triangle. While I was gone, a drug-addicted criminal with a long list of convictions broke into our kitchen at 4 a.m. was surprised by my wife and daughter, and fled with our credit cards, cash, keys, and cell phones. Sometimes I wonder who really was safer that week.- - - - - - - "If It Weren't For The United States Military There Would Be NO United States of America." (c)2006 Victor Davis Hanson Victor Davis Hanson is a Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution, Stanford University , a Professor Emeritus at California University , Fresno , and a nationally syndicated columnist for Tribune Media Services. He was a full-time farmer before joining California State University , Fresno , in 1984 to initiate a classics program. In 1991, he was awarded an American Philological Association Excellence in Teaching Award, which is given yearly to the country's top undergraduate teachers of Greek and Latin. Hanson was a National Endowment for the Humanities fellow at the Center for Advanced Studies in the Behavioral Sciences, Stanford, California (1992_93), a visiting professor of classics at Stanford University (1991_92), a recipient of the Eric Breindel Award for opinion journalism (200 2), and an Alexander Onassis Fellow (2001) and was named alumnus of the year of the University of California, Santa Cruz (2002). He was also the visiting Shifrin Chair of Military History at the U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis , Maryland (2002_3) "It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession. I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first." - Ronald Reagan

Marines come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes, and states of sobriety, misery, and confusion. He is sly as a fox, has the nerve of a dope addict, the stories of an old sailor, the sincerity of a politician, and the subtly of Mt. Saint Helen. He is extremely irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible. A Marine is a Marine all his life. He is a magical creature. You can kick him out of your house but not out of your heart. You can take him off your mailing list but not off your mind. Marines are found everywhere... in love...in battle... in lust... in trouble...in debt...in bars and ... behind them. No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you. No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter or clean clothes or a six pack. A Marine is a genius with a deck of cards. A millionaire - without a cent - and brave, without a grain of sense. He is the PROTECTOR OF AMERICA, with the latest copy of Playboy in his back pocket. When he wants something it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, a five dollar bill...or a woman he can count on. Girls love them, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them, the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together. You can beat their bodies but not their minds. You can tame their hearts but not their souls. He likes girls, females, women, ladies, and the opposite sex. He dislikes small checks, working weekends, answering letters, missing chow, waking up, maintaining a uniform, and the day before payday. You may as well give in. He is your long distance lover...he is your steel eyed, warm smiling, blank minded, hyperactive, over reacting, curious, passive, talented, spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry..... And will always be there for you regardless of how long it’s been since you've last talked. God Bless the Marine!

From my brother, Vietnam vet, retired Army aviator, FAA board member, and frequent traveler. From one of his recent flights cross country, a moving American story. Bring tissue... Slick Bro~ This sure brings the reality of war home; I have been on several flights that have troops returning home from Iraq and it is great to see the respect that they are shown by the silent majority. This certainly raises my opinion of United Airlines. This was written by Lt Gen McCorkle, a retired Marine hero who had an extraordinary career and remains a humble gentleman. Before his retirement a couple of years ago, he was in charge of all Marine aviation. On this weekend that has lots of people exercising their right to freedom of speech to protest the war in Iraq, let's not let this minority of Americans discourage our support of those serving in harms way and their families here at home. They very much need our prayers and support. The second to last paragraph is true and most appropriate. God Bless, Bro Last Flight February 17, 2007, 0350: Curbside at 24th and M, Washington, DC. 16 degrees with a light breeze. Going home after my second week of freezing temps to my home in So Cal. Fly my aircraft, ride a horse, climb a mountain and get back to living. I'm tired of the cold. 0425: Paying the taxi fare at Dulles in front of the United Airlines counter, still cold. 0450: Engaging the self-serve ticker machine and it delivers my ticket, baggage tag and boarding pass. Hmmm, that Marine is all dressed up early? Oh, maybe,,, Hmm, Good Morning Captain, you're looking sharp. Pass Security and to my gate for a quick decaf coffee and 5 hours sleep. A quick check of the flight status monitor and UA Flt 211 is on time, I'm up front, how bad can it be? Hmmm, that same Marine, he must be heading to Pendleton to see his lady at LAX for the long weekend all dressed up like that? Or maybe not? Attention in the boarding area, we will begin boarding in 10 minutes, we have some additional duties to attend to this morning but we will have you out of here on time. That Captain now has five others with him, BINGO, I get it, he is not visiting his lady, he's an official escort. How I remember doing that once, CACO duty. I still remember the names of the victim and family, The Bruno Family in Mojave, all of them, wow, that was 24 years ago. I wonder if we will ever know who and why? On board, 0600: Good morning folks this is the Captain. This morning we have been attending to some additional duties and I apologize for being 10 minutes late for pushback but believe me we will be early to LAX. This morning it is my sad pleasure to announce that 1st LT Jared Landaker USMC will be flying with us to his Big Bear home in Southern California. Jared lost his life over the skies of Iraq earlier this month and today we have the honor of returning him home along with his Mother, Father, Brother and uncles. Please join me in making the journey comfortable for the Landaker family and their uniformed escort. Now sit back and enjoy our ride, we are not expecting any turbulence until we reach the Rocky Mountains and at that time we will do what we can to ensure a smooth ride. For those interested you can listen in to our progress on button 9. Up button 9: Good morning UA 211 you are cleared to taxi, takeoff and cleared to LAX as filed. From the time we started rolling we never stopped. 1st LT Landaker began receiving his due. 4 hours and 35 minutes later over Big Bear MT, the AB320 makes a left roll and steep bank and then one to the right. Nice touch CAPTAIN. Five minutes out from landing, the Captain, Ladies and Gents after landing I'm leaving the fasten seatbelt sign on and I ask everyone in advance to yield to the Landaker family. Please remain seated until all members have departed the aircraft. Thank you for your patience, we are 20 minutes early. On roll out, I notice red lights, emergency vehicles everywhere. We are being escorted directly to our gate, no waiting anywhere, not even a pause. Out the left window, a dozen Marines in full dress blues. Highway Patrol, Police, Fire crews all in full dress with lights on. A true class act by everyone, down to a person from coast to coast. Way to go United Airlines for doing the little things RIGHT, because they are the big things; Air Traffic Control for getting the message, to all law enforcement for your display of brotherhood. When the family departed the aircraft everyone sat silent, then I heard a lady say, God Bless You and your Family, Thank You. Then another, then another, then a somber round of applause. The Captain read a prepared note from Mrs. Landaker to the effect, Thank you all for your patience and heartfelt concern for us and our son. We sincerely appreciate the sentiment. It is nice to have Jared home. After departing the a/c I found myself along with 30 others from our flight looking for a window. Not a dry eye in the craft. All of us were bawling like babies. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life. We all stood silent and watched as Jared was taken by his honor guard to an awaiting hearse. Then the motorcade slowly made its way off the ramp. I have finally seen the silent majority. It is deep within us all. Black, Brown, White, Yellow, Red, Purple, we are all children, parents, brothers, sisters, etc we are an American family. What you don't know is that on the flight I was tapped on the shoulder by Mrs. Landaker who introduced herself to me after I awoke. Early in our taxi out from the gate at Dulles, the gent next to me (a Fairfax City Council Member and acquaintance of the Thout family) were talking to the flight attendant and mentioned that we had sons serving on active duty, What do you say? How tragic, they must be devastated. He said many of the passengers had told him the same thing so somewhere in the flight he shared his tidbits with Mrs. Landaker. Our flight attendant had been struggling with what to say, to find the right words, so he told the Landaker family of passengers who were parents of service members who connected with their grief as parents. After I gathered myself, I stepped back to their row, two behind me and introduced myself to Mr. Landaker (a Veteran of South East Asia as a Tanker) and Jareds uncle and brother. What a somber moment. Their Marine Captain escort was a first rate class act. He had been Jareds tactics instructor and volunteered for this assignment, as he said, Sir, it is the least I could do, he was my friend and a great stick. He absolutely loved to fly; it's an honor to be here on his last flight. 1115: On my connecting flight, my mind raced. How lucky I was to have had an opportunity to fly my father to Spain and ride the carrier USS John F. Kennedy home in 1981. The same year Jared was born. How lucky I was to have my father on the crows landing when I made my final cat shot in an F-14. Jareds father never had that chance. Jared was at war, 10,000 miles away. When Mr. Landaker and I were talking he shared with me, When Jared was born he had no soft spot on his head and Drs feared he would be developmentally challenged. He became a Physics Major with Honors, high school and college athlete, and graduated with distinction from naval aviation flight school! He was short in stature, but a Marine all the way. Visit his life story on line at /www.bigbeargrizzly.net/> www.bigbeargrizzly.net. Bring tissue. February 7, 2007, Anbar Province, Iraq. 1st LT Jared Landaker United States Marine Corps, Hero, from Big Bear California, gave his live in service to his country. Fatally wounded when his CH-46 helicopter was shot down by enemy fire, Jared and his crew all perished. His life was the ultimate sacrifice of a grateful military family and nation. His death occurred at the same time as Anna Nicole Smith, a drug using person with a 7th grade education of no pedigree who dominated our news for two weeks while Jared became a number on CNN. And most unfortunately, Jareds death underscores a fact that we are a military at war, not a nation at war. Until we become a nation committed to winning the fight, and elect leaders with the spine to ask Americans to sacrifice in order to win, we shall remain committed to being a nation with a military at war, and nothing more. (And possibly no funding if congress has their way!) 1st LT Landaker, a man I came to know in the skies over America on 17 February 2007, from me to you, aviator to aviator, I am unbelievably humbled. It was my high honor to share your last flight. God bless you. SEMPER FI !

JOHN MCCAIN'S REMARKS ABOUT THE PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE!!! In light of the recent appeals court ruling in California, with respect to the Pledge of Allegiance, the following recollection from Senator John McCain is very appropriate: "The Pledge of Allegiance" - by Senator John McCain As you may know, I spent five and one half years as a prisoner of war during the Vietnam War. In the early years of our imprisonment, the NVA kept us in solitary confinement or two or three to a cell. In 1971 the NVA moved us from these conditions of isolation into large rooms with as many as 30 to 40 men to a room. This was, as you can imagine, a wonderful change and was a direct result of the efforts of millions of Americans on behalf of a few hundred POWs 10,000 miles from home. One of the men who moved into my room was a young man named Mike Christian. Mike came from a small town near Selma, Alabama. He didn't wear a pair of shoes until he was 13 years old. At 17, he enlisted in the US Navy. He later earned a commission by going to Officer Training School Then he became a Naval Flight Officer and was shot down and captured in 1967. Mike had a keen and deep appreciation of the opportunities this country and our military provide for people who want to work and want to succeed. As part of the change in treatment, the Vietnamese allowed some prisoners to receive packages from home. In some of these packages were handkerchiefs, scarves and other items of clothing. Mike got himself a bamboo needle. Over a period of a couple of months, he created an American flag and sewed on the inside of his shirt. Every afternoon, before we had a bowl of soup, we would hang Mike's shirt on the wall of the cell and say the Pledge of Allegiance. I know the Pledge of Allegiance may not seem the most important part of our day now, but I can assure you that in that stark cell it was indeed the most important and meaningful event. One day the Vietnamese searched our cell, as they did periodically, and discovered Mike's shirt with the flag sewn inside, and removed it. That evening they returned, opened the door of the cell, and for the benefit of all of us, beat Mike Christian severely for the next couple of hours. Then, they opened the door of the cell and threw him in. We cleaned him up as well as we could. The cell in which we lived had a concrete slab in the middle on which we slept. Four naked light bulbs hung in each corner of the room. As I said, we tried to clean up Mike as well as we could. After the excitement died down, I looked in the corner of the room, and sitting there beneath that dim light bulb with a piece of red cloth, another shirt and his bamboo needle, was my friend, Mike Christian. He was sitting there with his eyes almost shut from the beating he had received, making another American flag. He was not making the flag because it made Mike Christian feel better. He was making that flag because he knew how important it was to us to be able to Pledge our allegiance to our flag and country. So the next time you say the Pledge of Allegiance, you must never forget the sacrifice and courage that thousands of Americans have made to build our nation and promote freedom around the world. You must remember our duty, our honor, and our country "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

From Paul Minton A Different Christmas Poem.... 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 i n 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 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." PLEASE!, Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us !

Thanks to all who serve us! WHO IS A VET? He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel. He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel. She (or he) is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang. He is the POW who went away one person and came back another -- or didn't come back AT ALL. He is the Parris Island drill instructor who has never seen combat -- but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs. He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand. He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by. He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep. He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket --palsied now and aggravatingly slow -- who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come. He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being --a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded. Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU." It's the soldier, not the reporter, Who gave us our freedom of the press. It's the soldier, not the poet, Who gave us our freedom of speech. It's the soldier, not the campus organizer, Who gave us our freedom to demonstrate. It's the soldier, Who salutes the flag, Who serves others with respect for the flag, And whose coffin is draped by the flag, Who allows the protester to burn the flag. Prayer for our Servicemen: 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 Of all the gifts you could give a U. S. serviceman, Thanks is the very best one.