Last Saturday I joined DAR members in placing flags on the graves of veterans at our Olathe cemetery. We share this responsibility with groups like the American Legion and together recognize veterans from the Mexican American War to our most recent conflicts. I noted with interest the Civil War veterans served in units from PA, OH, IN, and IL before moving west and making Kansas their final home. It was gratifying to know some of the history of these men.
“Operation Pass the Torch” is the Society of the Honor Guard, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier’s nation campaign to reclaim Memorial Day for the noble and sacred reason for which it was intended–to honor those who died in service to our nation. A poem “In Arlington” by Bob Martin is a tribute to the Centennial of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in 2022. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRD4CY7rsBg. It is a lovely message worthy of sharing with your friends and family as a way to remember those who sacrificed their lives for our country. It is a way to pass the torch.
In celebrating the first Memorial Day Service in1868, General John A Logan challenged an America still recovering from the Civil War: “Let no neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic.”
Those words challenge us today as surely as they did 150 years ago. If you visit a cemetery this coming week to decorate the grave of a loved one with flowers as I always did as a youngster, take a moment to honor those who sacrificed with their lives for the precious freedoms we enjoy every day. Pass the torch. Have a blessed Memorial Day!
Until next time . . .
Phil is burried in the National Cemetary in Houston, Texas and thus I will be too. We have always felt that it is a priviledge to rest with our nation’s heroes. In past years, we have attended many solemn Memorial Day Ceremonies here.
Thank you for your service Jane.
Mary Ann
Mary Ann, how wonderful to hear from you! I can imagine the national cemetery in Houston is a beautiful one. It is indeed an honor to be buried in such a place. Thank you for letting me know.
Love and best always, Jane
The Sheepdogs
Most humans truly are like sheep
Wanting nothing more than peace to keep
To graze, grow fat and raise their young,
Sweet taste of clover on the tongue.
Their lives serene upon Life’s farm,
They sense no threat nor fear no harm.
On verdant meadows, they forage free
With naught to fear, with naught to flee.
They pay their sheepdogs little heed
For there is no threat; there is no need.
To the flock, sheepdog’s are mysteries,
Roaming watchful round the peripheries.
These fang-toothed creatures bark, they roar
With the fetid reek of the carnivore,
Too like the wolf of legends told,
To be amongst our docile fold.
Who needs sheepdogs? What good are they?
They have no use, not in this day.
Lock them away, out of our sight
We have no need of their fierce might.
But sudden in their midst a beast
Has come to kill, has come to feast
The wolves attack; they give no warning
Upon that calm September morning
They slash and kill with frenzied glee
Their passive helpless enemy
Who had no clue the wolves were there
Far roaming from their Eastern lair.
Then from the carnage, from the rout,
Comes the cry, “Turn the sheepdogs out!”
Thus is our nature but too our plight
To keep our dogs on leashes tight
And live a life of illusive bliss
Hearing not the beast, his growl, his hiss.
Until he has us by the throat,
We pay no heed; we take no note.
Not until he strikes us at our core
Will we unleash the Dogs of War
Only having felt the wolf pack’s wrath
Do we loose the sheepdogs on its path.
And the wolves will learn what we’ve shown before;
We love our sheep, we Dogs of War.
Russ Vaughn
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Vietnam 65-66
=========================================================
]In Flanders Fields
BY JOHN MCCRAE
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.
Stuart, I am reading your response to my May blog for the first time. (Apologies–I have been focusing on my second book, but that’s not an excuse for such a late response). The poem by Russ Vaughn is amazing. What can you tell me about him? I assume you knew him in Viet Nam? In Flanders Field is of course a classic and one I’ve always loved. Thank you very much for sending both these poems. I am glad I can do such a small thing as set out flags on Memorial Day. It seems to matter more as the years go by. Thank you for staying in touch! Jane
Hi, Jane.
My American Legion Riders group of Posst 232 Polk City, Iowa put out Flags last Thursday. We have 3 regular cemeteries and a Civil War one hidden in a forested corner of a small farm about 3 miles out of town. I get choaked up every time we go in there.
Hope you are doing well.
Have a good Memorial Day.
Love you,
Rick