Some Names I'll Always Remember
CW2 Paul Timmer
CW3 Rex Kenyon
CW3 Chuck Fortenberry
As I'm sure you know it's Memorial Day weekend. And I'm sure we'll see gallons of ink spilled and entire forests decimated in the quest to tell us how we should all feel about the sacrifice of people like Paul, Rex and Chuck.
If we are honest with ourselves those articles accomplish nothing, the people who really need those words will never read them and if they did the meaning of them would escape their grasp. If you are reading this the odds are good that you already appreciate the sacrifice of our soldiers in the cause of freedom...so I am in some respects preaching to the converted.
What I intend to address is the issue of how we honor and remember the sacrifice of these and other soldiers.
Having known these three guys pretty well I can say that they really wouldn't be going to any parades, wreath laying or any other type ceremony unless you forced them to...so I think the best way to honor these guys would be to do the things they would be doing if they were here today. At your BBQ have another Shiner Bock for Chuck, a burger for Paul and some chicken for Rex. See a ball game, go water skiing, go slow in the fast lane on the interstate. It's all these things (even things that piss you and me off) that these guys died to protect...if you want to honor them have some fun and when you get a second or two have a drink on Paul, Rex and Chuck.
I'll see you on the Green!
Fiddlers Green
Halfway down the trail to Hell,
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddlers' Green.
Marching past, straight through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
Though some go curving down the trail
To seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to Hell
Ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again
With friends at Fiddlers' Green.
And so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce mêlée
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
And go to Fiddlers' Green.
CW3 Rex Kenyon
CW3 Chuck Fortenberry
As I'm sure you know it's Memorial Day weekend. And I'm sure we'll see gallons of ink spilled and entire forests decimated in the quest to tell us how we should all feel about the sacrifice of people like Paul, Rex and Chuck.
If we are honest with ourselves those articles accomplish nothing, the people who really need those words will never read them and if they did the meaning of them would escape their grasp. If you are reading this the odds are good that you already appreciate the sacrifice of our soldiers in the cause of freedom...so I am in some respects preaching to the converted.
What I intend to address is the issue of how we honor and remember the sacrifice of these and other soldiers.
Having known these three guys pretty well I can say that they really wouldn't be going to any parades, wreath laying or any other type ceremony unless you forced them to...so I think the best way to honor these guys would be to do the things they would be doing if they were here today. At your BBQ have another Shiner Bock for Chuck, a burger for Paul and some chicken for Rex. See a ball game, go water skiing, go slow in the fast lane on the interstate. It's all these things (even things that piss you and me off) that these guys died to protect...if you want to honor them have some fun and when you get a second or two have a drink on Paul, Rex and Chuck.
I'll see you on the Green!
Fiddlers Green
Halfway down the trail to Hell,
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddlers' Green.
Marching past, straight through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
Though some go curving down the trail
To seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to Hell
Ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again
With friends at Fiddlers' Green.
And so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce mêlée
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
And go to Fiddlers' Green.
posted by Outlaw 13 at 22:55
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