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thedrifter
11-12-04, 09:57 AM
The Old Marine





The old Marine marched
in parades
on Memorial Day
The Fourth of July
and Veteran's Day
In heat, in rain, in pain, he went,
held formation, moved his feet high
when the drum did roll,
walked like a Marine,
talked like a Marine,
until... the day he died.


He was proud he served his country well
taking shrapnel on one campaign, always
living with the pain
rarely ever did he complain
when on his knees he
would crawl...the pain
too, much for him to stand tall.


Jaw squared, head high, march the steps
carry the rifle, salute the flag
every mindful he was a Marine.


In his casket he did lay
in full dress that sad day
his uniform pressed and sharp
this Marine did depart
to a far better land he did go
in fields of flowers he will stroll,
meet his mother, and receive
his well done son,
you where a Good Marine.



http://www.cob1.addr.com/mc14.jpg

BornToBeAMarine
12-08-04, 12:25 AM
This was written by my cousin, he was "UDT" WWII.

Today is December 7, It has been 63 years since the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and Putting us into World War 2. I wrote this poem a few years ago so that we wouldn't forget the thousands of our young people that were lost that morning by that cowardly attack. and all of our veterans that were lost in World War 2.

"Don't tread on me"

Out of the North they flew on that Sunday morning.
Out of the North they came without any warning.
Those airplanes showing the rising sun.
They bombed and strafed until they were done.

A lot of our boys were still asleep.
And now they are buried in the briney deep.
Aboard the Arizona some are still.
Aboard this great ship against their will.

The only ships that missed this foray.
Were our flattops. which were far away.
They missed our flattops, so they couldn't invade.
So that was the end of that cowardly raid.

Our great leader called it a day of infamy.
Then the rest of our Navy put out to sea.
What the Japanese leaders didn't see.
Was our old motto, "Don't tread on me"

A sleeping giant rose: the American people.
The war cry was shouted from every steeple.
The Lord was with us from the start.
We knelt and prayed and our part.


Bob Vairin: