The best news a Soldier Angel will hear is He/She is coming home!!
Nothing can replace the feeling of knowing "Mission accomplished!" and I am happy to say this was a most welcome message!
Whilst I say goodbye to a long time friend and say hello to a new one, I hope to be there when mail call comes and he/she is waiting in line to hear from family and friends and keep in touch with home.
May No Soldier Go Unloved!
Being away from his/her loved ones is one of the many hardships any soldier serving his country endures. We owe them our freedom and their sacrifice should never be forgotten!
Today is Sunday, a Holy day, and whilst we take the time from our busy lives to pray, let's not forget to remember each and everyone of them as well as their families on the home front!
Today is Sunday, a Holy day, and whilst we take the time from our busy lives to pray, let's not forget to remember each and everyone of them as well as their families on the home front!
The following is a poem written by a US Navy Private:
Your letters
We look up to mails here like prisoners in for life
pretend all you can, each mail is like wind to our sail
an albatross in the sky when all hope is lost.
We gather round each recipient to celebrate his fortune
just to know; to connect with the other side.
We ask, do folks support us, what does the polls say
when are we going home, local gossip and football
until night comes and lights out.
We sleep and wait for tomorrow, for another mail call
Unlike to get a phone call
it means only one thing: red cross. come home. signed
You feel like Noah amongst fellow sailors against their sail
You go; teary eyed to bury those who could not wait
to see tomorrow with you
for the return of their messengers
We gather round the bereaved; pray and console him/her
holding hands and our breaths the while
until another phone call comes
To receive a package, untampered and timely is heaven
everyone sings to your name
as items inside are shared out hungrily
pictures, magazines, perfumed letters colored with kisses
turn our crumbling tents into mini carnivals
many wait in line to drink in such contra bands
We later share a smoke outside
silent underneath giant stars
each wishing his day to come.
Letters from home...
We look up to mails here like prisoners in for life
pretend all you can, each mail is like wind to our sail
an albatross in the sky when all hope is lost.
We gather round each recipient to celebrate his fortune
just to know; to connect with the other side.
We ask, do folks support us, what does the polls say
when are we going home, local gossip and football
until night comes and lights out.
We sleep and wait for tomorrow, for another mail call
Unlike to get a phone call
it means only one thing: red cross. come home. signed
You feel like Noah amongst fellow sailors against their sail
You go; teary eyed to bury those who could not wait
to see tomorrow with you
for the return of their messengers
We gather round the bereaved; pray and console him/her
holding hands and our breaths the while
until another phone call comes
To receive a package, untampered and timely is heaven
everyone sings to your name
as items inside are shared out hungrily
pictures, magazines, perfumed letters colored with kisses
turn our crumbling tents into mini carnivals
many wait in line to drink in such contra bands
We later share a smoke outside
silent underneath giant stars
each wishing his day to come.
Letters from home...
Pvt Steven, K.
Freedom has a price...
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