Some didn't come home. Some came home, but didn't come home. Having witnessed the carnage of the battlefield and the horror of war, they have been forever changed. Some have come home, never to be physically whole again. Men and women, young and full of life, dreams, and the hope of the future, shouldered the burden of the defense of freedom and made unimaginable sacrifices that those of us who have not experienced lengthy separation from loved ones and combat will ever understand. We enjoy the benefits of freedom and this great nation because of them, because of their unselfish service for our nation and for us. Memorial Day. For most of us, a time to enjoy family, maybe start a vacation, or enjoy a cookout. For those who have served and sacrificed, it is one day where they receive the honor they are due, the honor that they have earned by their willingness to preserve our freedom. A "thank you" is not sufficient, yet that is what we offer- our heartfelt appreciation for your service and your sacrifice. To those who have served, and are serving, you are the embodiment of the greatness and spirit of our nation.
In Flanders Field
In Flanders Field the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our places; 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 Field
Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you, with failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If you break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Field
Dr. John McCrae
Thank you for your sacrifice, your service, and your greatness.
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our places; 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 Field
Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you, with failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If you break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Field
Dr. John McCrae
Thank you for your sacrifice, your service, and your greatness.
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