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Preview: Comments on: These are the people Memorial Day is for.

Comments on: These are the people Memorial Day is for.



Ramblings of an Emergency Physician in Texas



Last Build Date: Sat, 02 Dec 2017 13:18:31 +0000

 



By: Jim in Texas

Thu, 29 May 2008 16:37:58 +0000

"ALMIGHTY God, our heavenly Father, in whose hands are the living and the dead; We give thee thanks for all those thy servants who have laid down their lives in the service of our country. Grant to them thy mercy and the light of thy presence, that the good work which thou hast begun in them may be perfected; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord. Amen." In 1994 an AC-130 crashed off the coast of Kenya during the last days of "Restore Hope" in Somalia. 8 of 14 crewmen died. When their bodies were recovered we loaded them at the airport in Mogadishu for their return to the U.S. Competition was fierce to be among the honor guard who loaded the bodies on the aircraft. I unashamedly used my status as the only USAF CMSGT (E-9)in Mogadishu to be a part of that honor guard.



By: Teresa

Mon, 26 May 2008 21:33:08 +0000

I wish they could all come home alive. Not all of them will, but it doesn't stop me from praying that they all will. This moving tribute to our soldiers in Iraq was made several years ago. It still makes me cry every time I watch it. Here are the lyrics: In the quiet misty morning When the moon has gone to bed, When the sparrows stop their singing And the sky is clear and red, When the summer's ceased its gleaming, When the corn is past its prime, When adventure's lost its meaning, I'll be homeward bound in time. Bind me not to the pasture, Chain me not to the plow. Set me free to find my calling And I'll return to you somehow. If you find it's me you're missing, If you're hoping I'll return, To your thoughts I'll soon be list'ning, And in the road I'll stop and turn. Then the wind will set me racing As my journey nears its end And my path I'll be retracing When I'm homeward bound again. Bind me not to the pasture, Chain me not to the plow. Set me free to find my calling And I'll return to you somehow. In the quiet misty morning When the moon has gone to bed, When the sparrows stop their singing, I'll be homeward bound again.