December Post Do’ins

This year, the Post had over thirty community members gather at the Frost Free Library for Veterans Day. Thanks to all that attended to commemorate this special day.

Veteran’s Day 2020

Veteran’s Day 2020

This month the Post would like to share a special poem that has been buried in our files. As we celebrate Christmas during this particularly trying year, let’s not forget those who are deployed in “harm’s way”.

 A Soldiers Christmas

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,

I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,

My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,

Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,

Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,

Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.

In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,

So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,

But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, Then the

sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,

And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and dark of the night,

A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,

Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,

Standing watch over me, and my wife, and my child.

What are you doing?” I asked without fear,

Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,

You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,

Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.

To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light

Then he sighed and he said “It’s really all right,

I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night.”

It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line,

That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December,”

Then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas Gram

always remembers.”

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam,

And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,

But my wife sends me pictures,

he’s sure got her smile.

Then he bent and carefully pulled from his bag,

The red, white, and blue – an American flag.

I can live through the cold and being alone,

Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,

I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

I can carry the weight of killing another,

Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.

Who stand at the front against any and all,

To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.”

So back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright,

Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”

But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,

Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,

For being away from your wife and your son.”

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,

Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

To fight for our rights back home while we’re gone,

To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,

To know you remember we fought and we bled.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,

That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”

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November Post Do’ins

Veterans Day 2020

The Post will conduct Veterans Day activities at the Frost Free Library on Wednesday, 11 November beginning at 11:00 AM. The public is invited, personal masks and social distancing guidance will be in effect. The following poem was passed to the Post from Rufus Frost. It is reprinted here in honor of all veterans.

He was
getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat
around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war
that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his
exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every
one.

And ‘tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales
became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew
where of he spoke.

But we’ll hear his tales no
longer,
For ol’ Joe has passed away,
And the world’s a little
poorer
For a Veteran died today.

He won’t be mourned by
many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an
ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and
raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won’t
note his passing,
‘Tho a Veteran died today

When
politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While
thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were
great.

Papers tell of their life stories
From the
time that they were young,
But the passing of a Veteran
Goes
unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To
the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons
his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of
war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?
The politician’s stipend
And the style in which he
lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he
gives.

While the ordinary Veteran,
Who offered up his
all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension,
small.

It is not the politicians
With their compromise
and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now
enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your
enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his
ever-waffling stand?

Or would you want a Veteran
His
home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Veteran,
Who would fight
until the end.

He was just a common Veteran,
And his
ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may
need his likes again.

For when countries are in
conflict,
We find the Veteran’s part,
Is to clean up all the
troubles
That the politicians start. 

If we cannot do him
honor
While he’s here to hear the praise,
Then at least let’s give
him homage
At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple
headline
In the paper that might say:
“OUR COUNTRY IS IN
MOURNING,
A VETERAN DIED TODAY
.”

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