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A Story of Truth in the Vietnam Era

Thirty Years Of One Man’s Truth Are Up For Reconsideration
By Pat Conroy

The true things always ambush me on the road and take me by surprise when I am drifting down the light of placid days, careless about flanks and rearguard actions. I was not looking for a true thing to come upon me in the state of New Jersey. Nothing has ever happened to me in New Jersey. But came it did, and it came to stay.

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Marine full of Concern, Encouragement and Comfort

“A Sense of Duty, Honor”
Author Unknown

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside. “Your son is here,” she said to the old man. She had to repeat several times before the patient’s eyes opened. Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young man in the Marine Corps uniform standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man’s limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement. The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit alongside the bed. Nights are long in hospitalsbut all through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man’s hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile. He refused.

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Veterans Hat

Veterans Hat
Robert Charles Steinmeyer

I had a man come up to me
He ask me why I wore a hat in such a manner as I did
With patches and pins that clearly read Veteran United States Marine
I turned and proudly answered, well my friend it goes like this
I wear this hat not just for me
Although I certainly earned the right to bear the title of the United States Marines
No, I wear it for the veterans who served long before both you and me
Both on and off the battle fields offering their greatest sacrifice, again for you and me
I wear it for all who serve today both in the air, on the land and on the sea
I wear it as a reminder for all those who stand around and next to me
Of the blanket of freedom and security
These veterans afford us every day and every night we go to sleep
But most of all I wear in my fathers memory
Who valiantly served the 1st Marines fighting in Korea
Who when I volunteered and joined the Marines
Was so very proud me
I wear it in honor of my mother who endured the tears and sleepless nights
Waiting for her loved ones to call alone, homesick and filled with fright
You see my family has quite a military past
My Father and I in the 1st Marines
My brother in the US Navy
My Brother in-law retiring from the US Coast Guard
And now my Niece is in the Marine Corps and married to a Marine
Now with so much corruption and disregard for basic human rights
You might be comforted in knowing we who wear these hats
Still believe and are ready, able and willing to fight
For God, Country and decency
And for this I wear my hat so proudly
As the conscience and the heart of a person who will never forget
God Bless the USA and all its US military Vets
And Semper Fi to all my brother Marines

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Semper Fidelis

Semper Fidelis
by Breann Arant

Drawing closer and closer
to where our new home would be
Parris Island came in to view
for all recruits to see

a funny felling in my stomach
grew as we drew near
a feeling i've often felt before
a feeling know as fear

the funny feeling grew and grew
as we were swallowed by the isle
my hands were growing clammy
my heart pounding wild

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Poem Honoring the Marine

Ode to a Marine
Submitted by John Wear

In a crowd you’re bound to spot him,
He’s standing so very tall
Not too much impresses him;
He’s seen and done it all.
His hair is short, his eyes are sharp,
But his smile’s a little blue.
It’s the only indication
Of the hell that he’s gone through.
He belongs to a sacred brotherhood,
Always Faithful ’til the end.
He has walked right into battle
And walked back out again.
Many people think him foolish
For having no regrets
About having lived through many times
Others would forget.
He’s the first to go and last to know,
But never questions why,
On whether it is right or wrong,
But only do or die.
He walks a path most won’t take
And has lost much along the way,
But he thinks a lot of freedom,
It’s a small price to pay.
Yes, he has chosen to live a life
Off the beaten track,
Knowing well each time he’s called,
He might not make it back.
So, next time you see a Devil Dog
Standing proud and true,
Be grateful for all he’s given;
He’s given it for you.
Don’t go up and ask him
What’s it’s like to be in war;
Just thank God that it’s your country
He’s always fighting for.
And thank him too for all the hell
He’s seen in that shade of green,
Thank him for having the guts
To be a United States Marine

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From a Marine in Kuwait

Wish You Were Here
By: Cpl Joshua Miles

For all the free people that still protest.
You`re welcome.
We protect you and you are protected by the best.
Your voice is strong and loud,
but who will fight for you?
No one standing in your crowd.
We are your fathers, brothers, and sons,
wearing the boots and carrying guns.
We are the ones that leave all we own,
to make sure your future is carved in stone.
We are the ones who fight and die,
We might not be able to save the world,
Well, at least we try.
We walked the paths to where we are at
and we want no choice other than that.
so when you rally your group to complain,
take a look in the back of your brain.
In order for that flag you love to fly
wars must be fought and young men must die.
We came here to fight for the ones we hold dear.
If that`s not respected, we would rather stay here.
So please stop yelling, put down your signs,
and pray for those behind enemy lines.
When the conflict is over and all is well,
be thankful that we chose to go through hell.

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Fading Warriors

Fading Warriors
by Joseph A. Dardard

We were warriors once,
you and I;
shar’d the same fears,
torment’d by same anxieties.

From time to time,
shar’d same
earthen shelter,
with sterile earthen walls,
ornamented with tools of mortal conflict.

Between battles, we regained our shatter’d minds
listening to each other’s narratives of
youthful interludes.

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Heroes Carved In Stone

Heroes Carved In Stone
By Sabrina Stidham

I stood staring in awe as my gaze settled upon a black granite wall of memories.

As I stood there not a muscle in my body twitched, except for the rhythmic beating of my weary heart.

Before me, a great wall, with the names of Fathers, Sons, Brothers, Daughters; Soldiers; Heroes…carved in stone. As I looked at the granite I saw behind it. A scene of tangled jungles, mud covered boots, people crying, as their lives came to an unwritten end. On the ground I saw the bodies of fallen soldiers, bloody and cold from death. In my heart I felt their pain and fear, which lingered in their unforgotten souls.

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