They know the cost of freedom,
They have paid for it
In the hedgerows of France,
In the rocky mountains of Korea,
And yes in the Viet Nam mud,
They paid the ultimate for freedom.
Not in dollars, Lira, or Rubles,
But in blood.
They have stood on the mountain top
Raising a flag in victory,
They have stood as an honor guard,
As a comrade, that gave all,
Is laid to rest.
They have done their country’s bidding,
Through the years
And have withstood the test.
They are the American fighting men and women,
Protecting our way of life
From those that would enslave us
Or kill us just because we are different.
Honor these warriors,
For it is they
Who fight in the rain and mud,
The ultimate price they willingly pay,
With their lives and blood.
Nice work Huck!
~B~
I wish to thank you from the depths of my very soul for this lovely and home hitting poem....
as of right now I have a brother in Iraq........... it is wild and crazy and hectic there these days he tells me..........
I love this poem for what it stands for