...To every Veteran who ever served...and to those who are serving today all over the world ...Thank you for your Service and Sacrifice...and GOD Bless America !
"The two most powerful warriors are patience and time." � Leo Tolstoy
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.
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.
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.
...To every Veteran who ever served...and to those who are serving today all over the world ...Thank you for your Service and Sacrifice...and GOD Bless America !
Thanks to all, present and past, but ESPECIALLY to those in the far-flung corners of the world, away from there families, again.
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.
To my father who served with the 8th Aero Squadron (Observation) U.S. Army Expeditionary Flying Service, and suffered the rest of his life for having to bomb a German position in a church where children and nuns had sought shelter. To my uncle who was aboard the USS Nevada at Pearl Harbor and witnessed the carnage that took many of his friends and fellow sailors. To my Seabee cousin who was grievously wounded during the Tet Offensive and survived in flesh but not in spirit. To the young man Charles who I saw go off to Viet Nam a strong happy lad, the same Charles that wound up alive at the bottom of a mortar pit with all his dead buddies piled on top of him, to Charles who lost his sanity on that day. And to all those with wounds less obvious that returned with scared souls and mental torment; to those who awake in quite of night screaming of a nightmare long past; to those who drown their sorrows in alcohol that never quite extinguishes the memories and pain; I pray for your souls that God may take from you that oppressive baggage, leaving you with a peaceful heart and knowledge that there are loving family and friends that bid you undying gratitude for your sacrifice.
On this solemn day we honor every man and women who served with honor so we could be free. Later this morning, I will drive to Fort Snelling Cemetary to honor our fallen heroes. The Fort Snelling Rifle Squad will be busy as they always are. There will be funerals, as death never takes a day off. There will be a memorial service in observance of Veterans Day also. The members of this squad are mostly older vets, and it will be a long day for them. Their old Springfield rifles will fire the 21 gun salute until all the day's funerals are done, and the service has been attended to.
My deepest thanks to all those who served. We are a much better people because of what you endured.
Lest we every forget.....
In loving memory of my father, SSGT. Howard W. Grubb, United States Army.
Thank you and God bless to all my fellow brothers and sisters. Some of us went, some of us stayed home. Same of us gave the ultimate sacrifice and some of us made it back. We are all scarred and we all share a common bond but most important is that we all stood together and wrote that check to Uncle Sam for the amount of "everything and all" and we we're all good for it. We ask for nothing but sure do appreciate the simple thank you.
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