G*d Bless You and Your's

As a child of five, I was impressed with the Marine Corps Hymn ....

From the Halls of Montezuma
To the Shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title
of United States Marine.

Our flag's unfurled to every breeze
From dawn to setting sun;
We have fought in ev'ry clime and place
Where we could take a gun;
In the snow of far-off Northern lands
And in sunny tropic scenes;
You will find us always on the job--
The United States Marines.

Here's health to you and to our Corps
Which we are proud to serve
In many a strife we've fought for life
And never lost our nerve;
If the Army and the Navy
Ever look on Heaven's scenes;
They will find the streets are guarded
By United States Marines.


In those days, JFK was President. And even I could sense the optimism that life then granted us. Times change, Kennedy was struck down, as well his brother. And Martin Luther King. Vietnam launched the start of the modern media war. Which this gradeschooler was rolled over by. Even going so far as to mimic protestors on television yelling: "burn it." Which in the fourth grade, earned me a trip to the principal's office.

The power of media is strong. Even mighty. Today what is lacking from it's purveyors, is an understanding of that power. And their own personal responsibility to the truth. Not as a solitary avenue for the spread of their own political beliefs. Then, being constantly bombarded with the weekly domestic body count on the evening news, and the concurrent never ending coverage of the protest movement. An eight year old had no hope of understanding events. Nothing being provded to him, to gain that understanding.

Lives given, lives lost. In war. By our fellow Americans. On Memorial Day we think of them. For a piece of land, a country, a world entire they have fought. And died. But the earth returned is only that. The life upon it which we live, that is what is precious. And not simply the beating of our hearts, or the drawing of breath. But freedom. Freedom to think, to believe, to even speak that belief.

The ultimate joy. Never forsaken in battle by our men and women. We walk upon the earth unencumbered. Our spirits are allowed to soar to any height. Set free. By the very blood of those soldiers. Believe what you want about this war, about today's leaders. Why even speak it aloud. It is only because of those we remember, that you can do so. That you are free. An American.

Tomorrow, I hope to keeep a promise I made to myself a few years back. To pay respect on this one day, to those who have given all for freedom. It's posssible I won't make it. Though not for lack of trying. But whether I stand alongside others in a public ceremony, or not. My heart will be there. G*d bless you and your's.



Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning
Of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.

Chorus
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watchfires
Of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar
In the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence
By the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.

Chorus
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel writ
In burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with My contemners,
So with you My grace shall deal":
Let the Hero born of woman
Crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on.

Chorus
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet
That shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men
Before His judgement seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him;
Be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.

Chorus
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies
Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom
That transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy,
Let us die to make men free;
While God is marching on.

Chorus
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.



June 14 First Flight