The Conservative Cave
Current Events => Breaking News => Topic started by: Chris_ on May 25, 2012, 08:46:23 PM
-
(http://i237.photobucket.com/albums/ff68/kayaktn/arlingtonflags.jpg)
Soldiers place flags at Arlington graves ahead of Memorial Day (CNN) (http://www.cnn.com/2012/05/24/us/arlington-cemetery-flags/)
Soldiers placed small American flags at the graves of more than 260,000 service members in Arlington National Cemetery on Thursday ahead of the Memorial Day weekend.
The United States Army’s 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment has maintained the tradition, known as “Flags-In,” at the cemetery since 1948.
The regiment, also known as the “Old Guard,” sent every available soldier to cover the 624 acre military cemetery, according to the Army.
Thank you.
-
Happy? No.
Somber, thoughtful, and grateful? Absolutely.
-
I went with happy. I thought that was the customary idiom.
This week was the first time I've been there. 'Impressive' is the wrong word to use.
-
It is an awesome sight Chris. I am glad you got to see it. I think everyone should.
-
I hope to see Arlington when I go to AIT
-
As I reflect on this day, I had an interesting conversation with a co-worker....
I am in the jewelry dept looking at the nifty patriotic red , white and blue jewelry and accessories to celebrate this weekend.
Her: why are you looking at this jewelry?
me: to celebrate Memorial Day
Her: Memorial Day is to remember everyone who has passed.
Me: oh.......well i thought Memorial Day is when we, as a country unite and show respect to the soldiers, who have fallen in battle.
I know people who do personal memorials on the day of their loved ones death. whether thru their church in a private ceremony or mentioned in passing.
-
It is an awesome sight Chris. I am glad you got to see it. I think everyone should.
Am I the only one who got irked seeing McClellan's name over that gate? It felt wrong to me putting one man's name above all the others... I don't care if he was a damn general or not.
I think it's interesting how Lee was married to a daughter of George Washington's wife. Arlington belonged to Washignton by marriage. Makes you wonder.
-
Me and Laura took the bike for a ride and placed flags on our fathers graves. The amount of flags in our local graveyards are impressive and somber. I have a deep respect and admiration for those who served. Runs deep in my family. My grandfather was in the trenches of WW1 and uncle stormed the beach at Normandy, another spent 3 years in the jungles of Viet Nam. All were wounded in battle. I thank them for my freedom and hope I can keep it. To think that all they went through could be for nothing if we let these politicians and the UN keep taking our freedoms sickens me!
-
My father was in spring training as a pitcher for the New York Yankees when the Korean war broke out. He did what he felt was the right thing, and enlisted. The Yankees let him try out again after his 3 tours, but he failed to make the team due to his injuries. So yes, I say HAPPY Memorial Day for most importantly recognizing our fallen soldiers, but also paying tribute to all that have served that provide us our freedoms.
And on a great Memorial Day feel-good note: http://patdollard.com/2012/05/country-artist-tim-mcgraw-to-give-25-new-homes-to-military-veterans/
Hats off to Tim McGraw for donating 25 homes to military veterans. Great man.
-
My dad was a sophomore at William & Mary, on a football scholarship, when he enlisted in the Army in 1952. He spent a year in Korea firing 105's at a mountain he called "Ol Papasan", that the North Koreans had literally honeycombed with tunnels to move supplies through.
He had rotated out and was on a ship to Seattle when he got word the war was over. Settled here near his homeplace, married, started a dairy farm, raised 3 sons.
We lost Dad January 29th, 1997, 7 months after his 66th birthday, and one month after my 38th, from diabetic complications after bypass surgery.
I still miss him.
God Bless him and all who have and presently continue to serve! Happy Memorial Day!
:usflag: :taps: :salutearmy: :saluteaf: :saluteusmc: :salutenavy:
-
Journalist Lily Burana wrote for The New York Times 25 May 2012:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the run-up to every Memorial Day weekend, for the past several years, a certain photo takes top spot in those most circulated among my fellow military and veteran wives. On blogs, on social media sites, it is shared and “liked†over and over. Taken by the photographer Todd Heisler from his 2005 award-winning series for The Rocky Mountain News, “Jim Comes Home†— which documents the return and burial of Second Lt. Jim Cathey of the Marines, who lost his life in Iraq — the photo shows his pregnant widow, Katherine, lying on an air mattress in front of his coffin. She’s staring at her laptop, listening to songs that remind her of Jim. Her expression is vacant, her grief almost palpable.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
article (http://atwar.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/05/25/as-memorial-day-nears-a-single-image-that-continues-to-haunt/)
-
(http://usarmy.vo.llnwd.net/e2/c/images/2012/05/25/248750/size0.jpg)
I did this for four years. And I'd give anything to go back and do it again.
No matter how tired I was no matter what m schedule was for that day...it all melted away when I put my ruck on and started down into ANC with my first load of flags to start honoring these fallen heroes.
This weekend I'll remember my fellow soldiers in Section 60.
-
Just saw the video Arlington by Trace Adkins what a chilling song fitting for Memorial Day
-
In the following posts, those items that are shown in their entirety are in the public domain.
-
In Flanders Fields (http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm)
By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918), Canadian Army
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
-
My Heart's Content (http://www.forbes.com/asap/2000/1002/112.html)
Pat Conroy
(http://i47.tinypic.com/rmvgjo.gif)
-
From the Other Side (http://thewall-usa.com/literary/camunes.html)
Patrick Camunes
1998
(http://i48.tinypic.com/afd85u.jpg)
At first there was no place for us to go until someone put up that "Black Granite Wall." Now, everyday and night, my Brothers and my Sisters wait to see the many people from places afar file in front of this "Wall." Many stopping briefly and many for hours and some that come on a regular basis. It was hard at first, not that it's gotten any easier, but it seems that many of the attitudes towards that Vietnam war we were involved in have changed. I can only pray that the ones on the other side have learn something, and more "Walls" as this one, needn't be built.
Several members of my unit, and many that I did not recognize, have called me to The Wall by touching my name engraved upon it. The tears aren't necessary, but are hard even for me to hold back. Don't feel guilty for not being with me, my Brothers. This was my destiny as it is yours, to be on that side of The Wall. Touch The Wall, my Brothers, so that we can share in the memories that we had. I have learn to put the bad memories aside and remember only the pleasant times that we had together. Tell our other Brothers out there to come and visit me, not to say Goodbye but to say Hello and be together again...even for a short time...and to ease that pain of loss that we all still share.
Today, an irresistible and loving call summons me to The Wall. As I approach, I can see an elderly lady...and as I get closer, I recognize her...It's Momma! As much as I have looked forward to this day, I have also dreaded it, because I didn't know what reaction I would have.
Next to her, I suddenly see my wife and immediately think how hard it must have been for her to come to this place, and my mind floods with the pleasant memories of 30 years past. There's a young man in a military uniform standing with his arm around her...My God!...he has to be my son! Look at him trying to be the man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am, seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform.
Momma comes closer and touches The Wall, and I feel the soft and gentle touch I had not felt in so many years. Dad has crossed to this side of The Wall, and through our touch, I try to convey to her that Dad is doing fine and is no longer suffering or feeling pain. I see my wife's courage building as she sees Momma touch The Wall and she approaches and lays her hand on my waiting hand. All the emotions, feelings and memories of three decades past flash between our touch and I tell her that...t's alright...carry on with your life and don't worry about me...
I can see as I look into her eyes that she hears and a big burden has been lifted from her on wings of understanding.
I watch as they lay flowers and other memories of my past. My lucky charm that was taken from me and sent to her by my CO...a tattered and worn teddy bear that I can barely remember having as I grew up as a child...and several medals that I had earned and were presented to my wife. One is the Combat Infantry Badge that I am very proud of, and I notice that my son is also wearing this medal. I had earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam and he had probably earned his in the deserts of Iraq.
I can tell that they are preparing to leave, and I try to take a mental picture of them together, because I don't know when I will see them again. I wouldn't blame them if they were not to return, and can only thank them that I was not forgotten. My wife and Momma near The Wall for one final touch, and so many years of indecision fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave, I feel my tears that had not flowed for so many years, form as if dew drops on the other side of The Wall.
They slowly move away with only a glance over their shoulders. My son suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands straight and proud in front of me and snaps a salute. Something draws him near The Wall and he puts his hand upon etched stone and touches my tears that had formed dew drops on the face of The Wall...and I can tell that he senses my presence and the pride and love I have for him. He falls to his knees and the tears flow from his eyes and I try my best to reassure him that it's alright, and the tears do not make him less of a man. As he moves back wiping the tears from his eyes,he silently mouths,"God Bless you, Dad..."
God Bless, YOU, Son...we WILL meet someday, but in the meanwhile, go on your way...there is no hurry...there is no hurry at all.
As I see them walk off in the distance, I yell out to THEM and EVERYONE there today, as loud as I can:
THANKS FOR REMEMBERING!
...and as others on this side of The Wall join in, I notice that the U.S. Flag, Old Glory, that so proudly flies in front of us everyday, is flapping and standing proudly straight out in the wind from our gathering numbers this day...
and we shout again,
and...again,
and again...
T H A N K S F O R R E M E M B E R I N G!
T H A N K S FOR R E M E M B E R I N G!
T H A N K S FOR REMEMBERING!
THANKS F O R REMEMBERING!
THANKS FOR REMEMBERING!
-
General Douglas MacArthur: Thayer Award Acceptance Address (http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/douglasmacarthurthayeraward.html)
May 12, 1962
United States Military Academy
West Point, New York
"Duty, Honor, Country"
(http://i56.tinypic.com/2cdz69s.jpg)
General Westmoreland, General Grove, distinguished guests, and gentlemen of the Corps!
As I was leaving the hotel this morning, a doorman asked me, "Where are you bound for, General?" And when I replied, "West Point," he remarked, "Beautiful place. Have you ever been there before?"
No human being could fail to be deeply moved by such a tribute as this [Thayer Award]. Coming from a profession I have served so long, and a people I have loved so well, it fills me with an emotion I cannot express. But this award is not intended primarily to honor a personality, but to symbolize a great moral code -- the code of conduct and chivalry of those who guard this beloved land of culture and ancient descent. That is the animation of this medallion. For all eyes and for all time, it is an expression of the ethics of the American soldier. That I should be integrated in this way with so noble an ideal arouses a sense of pride and yet of humility which will be with me always: Duty, Honor, Country.
Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be. They are your rallying points: to build courage when courage seems to fail; to regain faith when there seems to be little cause for faith; to create hope when hope becomes forlorn.
Unhappily, I possess neither that eloquence of diction, that poetry of imagination, nor that brilliance of metaphor to tell you all that they mean. The unbelievers will say they are but words, but a slogan, but a flamboyant phrase. Every pedant, every demagogue, every cynic, every hypocrite, every troublemaker, and I am sorry to say, some others of an entirely different character, will try to downgrade them even to the extent of mockery and ridicule.
But these are some of the things they do. They build your basic character. They mold you for your future roles as the custodians of the nation's defense. They make you strong enough to know when you are weak, and brave enough to face yourself when you are afraid. They teach you to be proud and unbending in honest failure, but humble and gentle in success; not to substitute words for actions, not to seek the path of comfort, but to face the stress and spur of difficulty and challenge; to learn to stand up in the storm but to have compassion on those who fall; to master yourself before you seek to master others; to have a heart that is clean, a goal that is high; to learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; to reach into the future yet never neglect the past; to be serious yet never to take yourself too seriously; to be modest so that you will remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength. They give you a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a freshness of the deep springs of life, a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of an appetite for adventure over love of ease. They create in your heart the sense of wonder, the unfailing hope of what next, and the joy and inspiration of life. They teach you in this way to be an officer and a gentleman.
And what sort of soldiers are those you are to lead? Are they reliable? Are they brave? Are they capable of victory? Their story is known to all of you. It is the story of the American man-at-arms. My estimate of him was formed on the battlefield many, many years ago, and has never changed. I regarded him then as I regard him now -- as one of the world's noblest figures, not only as one of the finest military characters, but also as one of the most stainless. His name and fame are the birthright of every American citizen. In his youth and strength, his love and loyalty, he gave all that mortality can give.
He needs no eulogy from me or from any other man. He has written his own history and written it in red on his enemy's breast. But when I think of his patience under adversity, of his courage under fire, and of his modesty in victory, I am filled with an emotion of admiration I cannot put into words. He belongs to history as furnishing one of the greatest examples of successful patriotism. He belongs to posterity as the instructor of future generations in the principles of liberty and freedom. He belongs to the present, to us, by his virtues and by his achievements. In 20 campaigns, on a hundred battlefields, around a thousand campfires, I have witnessed that enduring fortitude, that patriotic self-abnegation, and that invincible determination which have carved his statue in the hearts of his people. From one end of the world to the other he has drained deep the chalice of courage.
As I listened to those songs [of the glee club], in memory's eye I could see those staggering columns of the First World War, bending under soggy packs, on many a weary march from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn, slogging ankle-deep through the mire of shell-shocked roads, to form grimly for the attack, blue-lipped, covered with sludge and mud, chilled by the wind and rain, driving home to their objective, and for many, to the judgment seat of God.
I do not know the dignity of their birth, but I do know the glory of their death.
They died unquestioning, uncomplaining, with faith in their hearts, and on their lips the hope that we would go on to victory.
Always, for them: Duty, Honor, Country; always their blood and sweat and tears, as we sought the way and the light and the truth.
And 20 years after, on the other side of the globe, again the filth of murky foxholes, the stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugouts; those boiling suns of relentless heat, those torrential rains of devastating storms; the loneliness and utter desolation of jungle trails; the bitterness of long separation from those they loved and cherished; the deadly pestilence of tropical disease; the horror of stricken areas of war; their resolute and determined defense, their swift and sure attack, their indomitable purpose, their complete and decisive victory -- always victory. Always through the bloody haze of their last reverberating shot, the vision of gaunt, ghastly men reverently following your password of: Duty, Honor, Country.
The code which those words perpetuate embraces the highest moral laws and will stand the test of any ethics or philosophies ever promulgated for the uplift of mankind. Its requirements are for the things that are right, and its restraints are from the things that are wrong.
The soldier, above all other men, is required to practice the greatest act of religious training -- sacrifice.
In battle and in the face of danger and death, he discloses those divine attributes which his Maker gave when he created man in his own image. No physical courage and no brute instinct can take the place of the Divine help which alone can sustain him.
However horrible the incidents of war may be, the soldier who is called upon to offer and to give his life for his country is the noblest development of mankind.
You now face a new world -- a world of change. The thrust into outer space of the satellite, spheres, and missiles mark the beginning of another epoch in the long story of mankind. In the five or more billions of years the scientists tell us it has taken to form the earth, in the three or more billion years of development of the human race, there has never been a more abrupt or staggering evolution. We deal now not with things of this world alone, but with the illimitable distances and as yet unfathomed mysteries of the universe. We are reaching out for a new and boundless frontier.
We speak in strange terms: of harnessing the cosmic energy; of making winds and tides work for us; of creating unheard synthetic materials to supplement or even replace our old standard basics; to purify sea water for our drink; of mining ocean floors for new fields of wealth and food; of disease preventatives to expand life into the hundreds of years; of controlling the weather for a more equitable distribution of heat and cold, of rain and shine; of space ships to the moon; of the primary target in war, no longer limited to the armed forces of an enemy, but instead to include his civil populations; of ultimate conflict between a united human race and the sinister forces of some other planetary galaxy; of such dreams and fantasies as to make life the most exciting of all time.
And through all this welter of change and development, your mission remains fixed, determined, inviolable: it is to win our wars.
Everything else in your professional career is but corollary to this vital dedication. All other public purposes, all other public projects, all other public needs, great or small, will find others for their accomplishment. But you are the ones who are trained to fight. Yours is the profession of arms, the will to win, the sure knowledge that in war there is no substitute for victory; that if you lose, the nation will be destroyed; that the very obsession of your public service must be: Duty, Honor, Country.
Others will debate the controversial issues, national and international, which divide men's minds; but serene, calm, aloof, you stand as the Nation's war-guardian, as its lifeguard from the raging tides of international conflict, as its gladiator in the arena of battle. For a century and a half you have defended, guarded, and protected its hallowed traditions of liberty and freedom, of right and justice.
Let civilian voices argue the merits or demerits of our processes of government; whether our strength is being sapped by deficit financing, indulged in too long, by federal paternalism grown too mighty, by power groups grown too arrogant, by politics grown too corrupt, by crime grown too rampant, by morals grown too low, by taxes grown too high, by extremists grown too violent; whether our personal liberties are as thorough and complete as they should be. These great national problems are not for your professional participation or military solution. Your guidepost stands out like a ten-fold beacon in the night: Duty, Honor, Country.
You are the leaven which binds together the entire fabric of our national system of defense. From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation's destiny in their hands the moment the war tocsin sounds. The Long Gray Line has never failed us. Were you to do so, a million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country.
This does not mean that you are war mongers.
On the contrary, the soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.
But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato, that wisest of all philosophers: "Only the dead have seen the end of war."
The shadows are lengthening for me. The twilight is here. My days of old have vanished, tone and tint. They have gone glimmering through the dreams of things that were. Their memory is one of wondrous beauty, watered by tears, and coaxed and caressed by the smiles of yesterday. I listen vainly, but with thirsty ears, for the witching melody of faint bugles blowing reveille, of far drums beating the long roll. In my dreams I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield.
But in the evening of my memory, always I come back to West Point.
Always there echoes and re-echoes: Duty, Honor, Country.
Today marks my final roll call with you, but I want you to know that when I cross the river my last conscious thoughts will be of The Corps, and The Corps, and The Corps.
I bid you farewell.
mp3 audio of speech (http://174.132.193.190/~eiden/mp3clips/politicalspeeches/douglasmacarthurthayeraward.mp3)
-
Reveille (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2487638612433437293)
A short film starring David Huddleston and James McEachin
-
Not a huge Billy Ray Cyrus fan; but I like this song. God Bless our troops and their families who sacrificed so much so that this can remain the greatest country in the world.
Some Gave All - Billy Ray Cyrus
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydWhRObVxrM
-
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
-- Abraham Lincoln
-
In the following posts, those items that are shown in their entirety are in the public domain.
Good to see you around here Golem!
-
From the Other Side (http://thewall-usa.com/literary/camunes.html)
Patrick Camunes
1998
(http://i48.tinypic.com/afd85u.jpg)
At first there was no place for us to go until someone put up that "Black Granite Wall." Now, everyday and night, my Brothers and my Sisters wait to see the many people from places afar file in front of this "Wall." Many stopping briefly and many for hours and some that come on a regular basis. It was hard at first, not that it's gotten any easier, but it seems that many of the attitudes towards that Vietnam war we were involved in have changed. I can only pray that the ones on the other side have learn something, and more "Walls" as this one, needn't be built.
Several members of my unit, and many that I did not recognize, have called me to The Wall by touching my name engraved upon it. The tears aren't necessary, but are hard even for me to hold back. Don't feel guilty for not being with me, my Brothers. This was my destiny as it is yours, to be on that side of The Wall. Touch The Wall, my Brothers, so that we can share in the memories that we had. I have learn to put the bad memories aside and remember only the pleasant times that we had together. Tell our other Brothers out there to come and visit me, not to say Goodbye but to say Hello and be together again...even for a short time...and to ease that pain of loss that we all still share.
Today, an irresistible and loving call summons me to The Wall. As I approach, I can see an elderly lady...and as I get closer, I recognize her...It's Momma! As much as I have looked forward to this day, I have also dreaded it, because I didn't know what reaction I would have.
Next to her, I suddenly see my wife and immediately think how hard it must have been for her to come to this place, and my mind floods with the pleasant memories of 30 years past. There's a young man in a military uniform standing with his arm around her...My God!...he has to be my son! Look at him trying to be the man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am, seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform.
Momma comes closer and touches The Wall, and I feel the soft and gentle touch I had not felt in so many years. Dad has crossed to this side of The Wall, and through our touch, I try to convey to her that Dad is doing fine and is no longer suffering or feeling pain. I see my wife's courage building as she sees Momma touch The Wall and she approaches and lays her hand on my waiting hand. All the emotions, feelings and memories of three decades past flash between our touch and I tell her that...t's alright...carry on with your life and don't worry about me...
I can see as I look into her eyes that she hears and a big burden has been lifted from her on wings of understanding.
I watch as they lay flowers and other memories of my past. My lucky charm that was taken from me and sent to her by my CO...a tattered and worn teddy bear that I can barely remember having as I grew up as a child...and several medals that I had earned and were presented to my wife. One is the Combat Infantry Badge that I am very proud of, and I notice that my son is also wearing this medal. I had earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam and he had probably earned his in the deserts of Iraq.
I can tell that they are preparing to leave, and I try to take a mental picture of them together, because I don't know when I will see them again. I wouldn't blame them if they were not to return, and can only thank them that I was not forgotten. My wife and Momma near The Wall for one final touch, and so many years of indecision fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave, I feel my tears that had not flowed for so many years, form as if dew drops on the other side of The Wall.
They slowly move away with only a glance over their shoulders. My son suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands straight and proud in front of me and snaps a salute. Something draws him near The Wall and he puts his hand upon etched stone and touches my tears that had formed dew drops on the face of The Wall...and I can tell that he senses my presence and the pride and love I have for him. He falls to his knees and the tears flow from his eyes and I try my best to reassure him that it's alright, and the tears do not make him less of a man. As he moves back wiping the tears from his eyes,he silently mouths,"God Bless you, Dad..."
God Bless, YOU, Son...we WILL meet someday, but in the meanwhile, go on your way...there is no hurry...there is no hurry at all.
As I see them walk off in the distance, I yell out to THEM and EVERYONE there today, as loud as I can:
THANKS FOR REMEMBERING!
...and as others on this side of The Wall join in, I notice that the U.S. Flag, Old Glory, that so proudly flies in front of us everyday, is flapping and standing proudly straight out in the wind from our gathering numbers this day...
and we shout again,
and...again,
and again...
T H A N K S F O R R E M E M B E R I N G!
T H A N K S FOR R E M E M B E R I N G!
T H A N K S FOR REMEMBERING!
THANKS F O R REMEMBERING!
THANKS FOR REMEMBERING!
That is sad and beautiful, anyone reading that with out tears is soulless.
-
George Jones - 50,000 names carved in the wall.
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpBiVpSggNs[/youtube]
God bless all the troops who sacrifice themselves to defend this country. They are the real hero's.
-
Am I the only one who got irked seeing McClellan's name over that gate? It felt wrong to me putting one man's name above all the others... I don't care if he was a damn general or not.
I think it's interesting how Lee was married to a daughter of George Washington's wife. Arlington belonged to Washignton by marriage. Makes you wonder.
I'm currently reading an excellent biography of James Longstreet, the Confederate lieutenant general during the Civil War. It mentioned in the book that Lee was compensated by the government for their acquisition of what became Arlington National Cemetery.
McClellan was a pompous asshole. Seems fitting that they'd put up a gate with his name overhead -- just to recognize the pomposity.
-
these songs always make me cry
-
After 9/11, my local radio stations (I mean all of them, no matter what genre they were) played this song every hour. It is pretty fitting and shows how a lot of people, including me, feel about this country.
Lee Greenwood - God Bless the U.S.A
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q65KZIqay4E[/youtube]
-
One of my main missions in life is to go to two places before I die. 1) Arlington Cemetery, and 2) Normandy.
-
Arlington is worth the trip. You can see the Pentagon from there.
-
Arlington is worth the trip. You can see the Pentagon from there.
My mother-in-law went there for the first time last year, she said it is so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes.
-
My mother-in-law went there for the first time last year, she said it is so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes.
My aunt's burial at Arlington was Thursday. My commute was a frustrating experience with delays, scarily bad drivers, a horrible rental car, and a rotten hotel room in a seedy neighborhood... but it was worth every minute.
-
My aunt's burial at Arlington was Thursday. My commute was a frustrating experience with delays, scarily bad drivers, a horrible rental car, and a rotten hotel room in a seedy neighborhood... but it was worth every minute.
Tell us more about your Aunt.
-
My aunt's burial at Arlington was Thursday. My commute was a frustrating experience with delays, scarily bad drivers, a horrible rental car, and a rotten hotel room in a seedy neighborhood... but it was worth every minute.
Tell us more about your Aunt.
Yes, I would like to know about her.
-
I can't really say much other than quoting her obituary. For most of her career (active and retired), I was just another rugrat taking up space in her home. Some of you may recognize her duty stations.
Graduated from Fordham School of Nursing, Bronx, NYC and was an honor graduate of the USAF School of Flight Nursing and also honor graduate of the Nursing Service Administration School, and Margaret Hague Obstetrical Nursing.
She had 19 assignments in 22 years of Air Force service, including Chief Nurse at USAF Hospitals in U-Tapao, Thailand, 1972-1973; MacDill AFB, FL, 1974-1975, Langley AFB, VA, 1975-1977. She served on The Human Relations Committee of Dorthea Dix and the NC Barber Board.
She was a life member of The Military Officers Association of America, charter member of Society of Air Force Nurses, member of the Air Force Association, Seniors of St. Francis of Assisi Church, Capital Area Republican Club and a charter member of the Raleigh-Durham USO where she has served since 2004.
She has some great friends. Those old folks had some really good stories to tell. Her husband (my uncle) served in WWII, Korea, and Vietnam.
-
One guy says to my father, "Hey, Doug. I got some pictures of your sister. Want to see them?" :naughty:
I had the best time. If someone could have written a book about their life, it should have been her.
-
McClellan was a pompous asshole. Seems fitting that they'd put up a gate with his name overhead -- just to recognize the pomposity.
Yes, I read one account of Lincoln going to his home to see him and discuss the progress of the "civil" war, and was told that McClellan was not at home but would be there soon. Lincoln was shown into a room to wait for him. When McClellan arrived, he was told that Lincoln was waiting for him in another room. McClellan went up the stairs to his bedroom and went to sleep, leaving Lincoln still waiting for him.
-
One guy says to my father, "Hey, Doug. I got some pictures of your sister. Want to see them?" :naughty:
I had the best time. If someone could have written a book about their life, it should have been her.
Your Aunt had an impressive life dedicated to our armed forces.
-
Lest we Forget:
The first Veterans Cemetary - Revolutionary War - Philadelphia, PA
(http://i681.photobucket.com/albums/vv176/rustybayonet_2009/Veteran%20Cemeteries/800px-Tomb_of_the_Unknown_Revolutio.jpg)
Gettysburg - Civil War
(http://i681.photobucket.com/albums/vv176/rustybayonet_2009/Veteran%20Cemeteries/180px-Gettysburg5.jpg)
Flanders Field - World War I
(http://i681.photobucket.com/albums/vv176/rustybayonet_2009/Veteran%20Cemeteries/FlandersField-1.jpg)
Normandy - World War II
(http://i681.photobucket.com/albums/vv176/rustybayonet_2009/Veteran%20Cemeteries/normandymemorial.jpg)
-
That is sad and beautiful, anyone reading that with out tears is soulless.
Nice to see that I've got a soul, then. :taps: