A day of remembrance for all the servicemen and women who have lost their lives while serving in the United States Armed Forces.
This weekend marks the official start of summer with cookouts, family gatherings and visits to cemeteries across the United States.
My thoughts and prayers go out to the servicemen and women who are across the ocean fighting in wars and protecting the country.
My thoughts and prayers go out to the families of these servicemen and women. All the waiting and uncertainty that you face each day. Not knowing if your loved ones are safe, and patiently awaiting their long overdue arrival.
War is a necessary evil that we must endure. At times necessary and seems like other times, you can't help but wonder, why?
Whether we agree or disagree with war. We must remember the ones who gave their lives for us. These servicemen and women are our fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews. Some experienced, some still in their teens. But they're out there on the front line for you.
Take a moment out this weekend and offer up prayers, write a letter, or offer support to the families.
No, Freedom isn't free
-written by-
CDR Kelly Strong, USCG (Ret)
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And 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 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 fathers, 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.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And 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 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 fathers, 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.