Over 16,532,536 people are on fubar.
What are you waiting for?
I love you through my anger,
In between my fits of rage.
I want us to be happy,
But I just can't turn the page.
I see in you the answer
To every time I've prayed.
Then I get mad; you leave the room;
I wish that you had stayed.
My love just wants to hold your hand,
But my anger doesn't care.
I feel the weight you carry.
It really isn't fair.
I gave our country everything
The day I went to war.
I thought the cost would be my life,
But it turned out to be much more.
I look into my child's eyes,
And I see a child burned
By Napalm lying on the ground,
Without a lesson learned.
So now they send the young folks
To act like war is fun,
Without a thought of how they'll feel
When their killing job is done.
When folks go fill their gas tanks
I think they all should know,
A veteran's future happiness
Is drowning in the flow.
I struggle wiuth this everyday. Wish I had more ppl to lean on.
If anyone could help , there is an organization in honor of PFC Nicholas Madaras, a fallen comrade of mine. They collect and distibute soccer balls for the children of iraq.
|
Nick Madaras was raised for a majority of his life in a little town called Wilton, Connecticut. From an early age Nick took a liking for athletics, trying his hand in every imaginable sport. One sport in particular really seemed to be a perfect fit for Nick, soccer. Nick dedicated himself to the sport of soccer; going to summer camps, coaching his younger brother Christopher in the recreation league, and sharpening his skills in the off season with his friends on a local team and playing in the backyard with his sister Marie. Nick’s work ethic and dedication to the team was something we all strive for, but rarely achieve.
Nick took that work ethic and dedication into the Army with him when he left for basic training in July of 2005. After basic, AIT, and airborne school he was sent to Ft. Carson and prepared for deployment to Iraq. The war itself at times confused Nick, the way is confuses many others. He believed in what he was doing, and truly wanted to help the people of Iraq. Nick particularly was fond of the Iraqi children. He would see them kicking bags of rocks around the streets trying to play soccer and realized these kids are no different than him. When he was home on leave in July 2006, he rounded up as many balls as he could to bring back to the children of Iraq. Nick figured if a war that had raged on for more than thirty years in the Ivory Coast could be stopped because of soccer, why couldn’t one be ended in Iraq? Nick was killed in action by an IED on September 3rd of 2006 at the age of 19. The men in his unit and all of us back home were completely devastated and continue to mourn to this day. Our way to get back at the men who did this, however, won’t be a course of hatred and rage. Instead we are spreading Nick’s love of soccer and his dedication to the children of Iraq by sending to Iraq soccer balls to be distributed to the children of Iraq directly by our soldiers in the field. We are all fulfilling Nick’s dream by collecting and distributing these balls. Nick’s Comrades in Arms have told us that when the times get really rough over there and they’re searching for a reason for all of the madness, they can hand a ball to one of the children and look at their eyes glow with happiness, remember Nick, and realize that yes, it is worth it. |
We went out for beers and a couple of laughs
Knowin' full well that every bad joke that Jimmy told
Might be his last
So we laughed like the world wasn't at war
Said things to him we'd never said before
And he teared up as he held up his glass
He said, boys, if I don't make it back
Have a beer for me, don't waste no tears on me
On Friday night sit on the visitors side
And cheer for the home team
Drive my Camaro, 90 miles an hour down Red Rock Road
With 'Born to Run' blastin' on the radio
And find someone good enough for Amy
Who will love her like I would have
If I don't make it back
We said, hey, man that ain't gonna happen
Don't even think like that
If we know you, you'll pull through without a scratch
He pulled me aside in the parkin' lot
Said, Amy and me we're gonna tie the knot
You're my best man, just wanted you to know that
Just in case I don't make it back
Have a beer for me, don't waste no tears on me
On Friday night sit on the visitors side
And cheer for the home team
Drive my Camaro, 90 miles an hour down Red Rock Road
With 'Born to Run' blastin' on the radio
And find someone good enough for Amy
Who will love her like I would have
If I don't make it back
If the good Lord calls me home
I'd like to think my friends
Will think about me when I'm gone
Well, Miller Lite ain't my brand
But I drink one every now and then, in his honour
And we ain't missed a home game yet
Had that Camero at 110 on Red Rock Road
When the speakers blowed
And I introduced Amy to a friend of mine from Monroe
He's a good ol' boy
But you know, she just ain't ready
I am the Infantry. I am my country's strength in war, her deterrent in peace. I am the heart of the fight- wherever, whenever. I carry America's faith and honor against her enemies. I am the Queen of Battle. I am what my country expects me to be- the best trained soldier in the world. In the race for victory, I am swift, determined, and courageous, armed with a fierce will to win. Never will I fail my country's trust. Always I fight on- through the foe, to the objective, to triumph over all. If necessary, I fight to my death. By my steadfast courage, I have won 200 years of freedom. I yield not- to weakness, to hunger, to cowardice, to fatigue, to superior odds, for I am mentally tough,physically strong, and morally straight. I forsake not- my country, my mission, my comrades, my sacred duty. I am relentless. I am always there, now and forever. I AM THE INFANTRY! FOLLOW ME!
I joined only to shoot terrorists. I joined the day after the world trade center was destroyed. I felt it was my responsibility to get back at those who hurt us. I joined the infantry because I knew I would probably see combat. I went to Iraq twice. I have had dealings with more than my fair share of al-queda in Iraq operatives and their supporters. I have seen more than my fair share of hurt comrades, and innocent children who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have survived more than my share of IED's, mortar, RPG, and AK-47 fire. I still live with Iraq everyday. I used to ashamed that I had nightmares everynight, and that I couldn't be around ppl, or that was angry at the world. I have a severe brain injury, and i am lucky if i remember to pay the bills. My frontal lobe on teh right side was caved in. But would I do it again? You are damned right I would. I love my country, and I was proud to wear that uniform. I did my part to get back at those who got us. Now I am not going to argue the whole U.S. Iraq thing. I know what i know. In my eyes everyone should have to serve. This month is a bad month for me. A soldier that I trained died sept. 3rd 2006. He was blown up in a Humvee by an IED. Granted no amount of training I could have given him would have stopped it, it still eats at me. I still shed a tear for those who died in New York, the pentagon, and in PA.
WOUNDS OF WAR
Some wounds of war
Are never seen
They're buried deep within
No open wound
No Purple Heart
No blemish on the skin
But these are wounds
That leave a scar
Upon our very soul
They tear our hearts
Cause misery
And take a heavy toll
Our bloodless wounds
Cause us to ask
Oh, God, what was it for
We go through life
Not knowing why
We have these Wounds of War
MEDALS
Don't envy a man his medals
All those ribbons on his chest
He did not try to get them
They're not there at his request
They were earned in stinking hell holes
Where no man would like to go
Or in cold and wintry places
Where there's only ice and snow
He did not know he earned them
Till they were awarded at parade
And they were bright when he first got them
But in time the colors fade
He was told he had to wear them
And to wear them all with pride
But when the memories come to haunt him
Those same medals make him hide
Cause those medals will not bring back
All those guys he left behind
And he would trade them all forever
For a little peace of mind
So don't envy a man his medals
You don't want to take his place
Thinking back to long gone battles
And meeting dead friends face to face
THE MEMORIAL
We tried, we tried, Oh God we tried
So we could be here too
And walk around remembering
And look for names we knew
Our lives were lost so far away
Upon a distant shore
But we are here in memory
As you read our names once more
Remember us, Remember us
Although we're truly gone
Remember us, as we once were
And not just names in stone.
WOUNDS OF WAR
Some wounds of war
Are never seen
They're buried deep within
No open wound
No Purple Heart
No blemish on the skin
But these are wounds
That leave a scar
Upon our very soul
They tear our hearts
Cause misery
And take a heavy toll
Our bloodless wounds
Cause us to ask
Oh, God, what was it for
We go through life
Not knowing why
We have these Wounds of War
WEAPONS
There are many types of weapons
But the ones that hurt the most
Are the weapons made of memories
And the deadly midnight ghost.
Not all wounds are red and bloody
There are wounds that touch the mind
These are wounds that always fester
They're the never healing kind.
Why are we who've done our duty
Plagued by wounds that never heal
Made by weapons of our memories
Which are worse than lead and steel
