REMEMBER??? THE DAY LONG AGO WHEN THIS WAS ME AND YOU!!!!!!

He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student,

pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has

a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to

be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and

roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155 mm Howitzer. He is 10 or

15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working

or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field

strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can

recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and

use either one effectively if he must. He digs foxholes and latrines and can

apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop or

stop until he is told to march.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without

spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of

fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens

full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but

never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own

clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water

with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition

with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like

they were his hands. He can save your life -- or take it, because that

is his job. He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the

pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering

and death then he should have in his short lifetime.

He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them.

He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat

and is unashamed. He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate

through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning

desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand,

remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out,

far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying

the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the

American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.

He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding. Remember him,

always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his load.

And now we even have women over there in danger,Prayer wheel for our military ...


There's something to be said for being raised in a small town. What follows is a message from Vicki Pierce about her nephew James' funeral (he was serving our country in Iraq): "I'm back, it was certainly a quick trip, but I have to also say it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. There is a lot to be said for growing up in a small town in Texas. The service itself was impressive with wonderful flowers and sprays, a portrait of James, his uniform and boots, his awards and ribbons. There was lots of military brass and an eloquent (though inappropriately longwinded) Baptist preacher. There were easily 1000 people at the service, filling the church sanctuary as well as the fellowship hall and spilling out into the parking lot. However, the most incredible thing was what happened following the service on the way to the cemetery. We went to our cars and drove to the cemetery escorted by at least 10 police cars with lights flashing and some other emergency vehicles, with Texas Rangers handling traffic. Everyone on the road who was not in the procession, pulled over, got out of their cars, and stood silently and respectfully, some put their hands over their hearts. When we turned off the highway suddenly there were teenage boys along both sides of the street about every 20 feet or so, all holding large American flags on long flag poles, and again with their hands on their hearts. We thought at first it was the Boy Scouts or 4H club or something, but it continued .... for two and a half miles. Hundreds of young people, standing silently on the side of the road with flags. At one point we passed an elementary school, and all the children were outside, shoulder to shoulder holding flags . kindergartners, handicapped, teachers, staff, everyone. Some held signs of love and support. Then came teenage girls and younger boys, all holding flags. Then adults. Then families. All standing silently on the side of the road. No one spoke, not even the very young children. The military presence..at least two generals, a fist full of colonels, and representatives from every branch of the service, plus the color guard which attended James, and some who served with him ... was very impressive and respectful, but the love and pride from this community who had lost one of their own was the most amazing thing I've ever been privileged to witness. I've attached some pictures, some are blurry (we were moving), but you can get a small idea of what this was like. Thanks so much for all the prayers and support." These photos are awesome!! ups1.jpg flag2.jpg flag3.jpg flag4.jpg flag5.jpg flag6.jpg flag7.jpg flag8.jpg road1.jpg road2.jpg flag1.jpg



THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST MOVING E-MAILS I'VE SEEN TO DATE. GO USA and GOD BLESS ALL OF OUR SOLDIERS!

Courtesy of Nancy Keck Subject: They Need Our Prayers