| Proud to Pass This On I watched the flag pass by one day, It fluttered in the breeze. A young Marine saluted it, Then he stood at ease... I looked at him in uniform So young, so tall, so proud, With hair cut square and eyes alert, He'd stand out in any crowd. I thought how many men like him Had fallen through the years. How many died on foreign soil, How many mothers' tears? How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea? How many foxholes were were soldiers' graves? No, freedom isn't free. I heard the sound of Taps one night When everything was still. I listened to the bugler play, And felt a sudden chill. I wondered just how many times That Taps had meant "Amen", When a flag had draped a coffin Of a brother or a friend. I thought of all the children, Of the mothers and the wives, Of father, sons and husbands, With interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard At the bottom of the sea Of unmarked graves in Arlington. No, freedom isn't free. Author Unknown Sent by an email from a loved one Enjoy Our Freedom and God Bless Our Troops. Support our troops and send this webpage along for others to see. Website designed by Donna Groskopf, March 2004 |
