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Lest we forget

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You came here, all those years ago, when the old country was in turmoil,

You made such a sacrifice, leaving your wife, to land on our soil.

It must have been hard, but you stood fast in the face of the enemy,

You arrived in a strange country, to give what you could without ceremony.

In those dark days, you lost some of your pals as they paid with their lives,

So that we could be free, you flew missions again and again.

I wish I had known you for longer and I could have listened to your story,

I have my Nana - your daughter to tell me about the triumph and glory.

I will hold your distant memory in my heart, always close inside,

I will never forget what you did for us and I'm wearing my poppy with pride.

A First Class Service Ch.5

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My father was Polish and came to the U.K. to continue the fight. First he retreated to Bulgaria when the Germans invaded, was imprisoned as an alien escaped and went to Greece, then to France joined their air force and again had to retreat to the U.K. where he joined the R.A.F. and spent the war servicing Mosquito fighter bombers. At the end of the war it would have been dangerous to return to his own country because despite its invasion being the initial reason for the U.K. declaring war on Germany after the war it was no longer free as the allies had lost the war in Europe. Now I am trying to prove his nationality during that time but despite his name and rank being on Polish web sites as a member of the Polish forces fighting in the U.K. the Polish authorities can find no record of him. So much for being willing to die for one's country. The joke gets deeper - that part of Poland he was from is now part of the Ukraine. It is not impossible to say that Poland could in some scenario declare war on Ukraine so which country would he be willing to die for in that instance? The whole thing is obscene.
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That must be very frustrating for you. At least you know what he did.

I know there were some boundary changes. It happened with Czechoslovakia, too.

D x

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Sophisticate
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In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Written by John McCrae, a Canadian soldier and doctor in the wake of WW I. I believe that this is the origin of the poppy we wear in the weeks preceding November 11. The poppies are then placed on local war memorials, blanketing them in red.
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❤️ lest we forget ❤️
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Quote by principessa
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Written by John McCrae, a Canadian soldier and doctor in the wake of WW I. I believe that this is the origin of the poppy we wear in the weeks preceding November 11. The poppies are then placed on local war memorials, blanketing them in red.


This is beautiful. Thank you for posting it here

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Quote by Jack_42
My father was Polish and came to the U.K. to continue the fight. First he retreated to Bulgaria when the Germans invaded, was imprisoned as an alien escaped and went to Greece, then to France joined their air force and again had to retreat to the U.K. where he joined the R.A.F. and spent the war servicing Mosquito fighter bombers. At the end of the war it would have been dangerous to return to his own country because despite its invasion being the initial reason for the U.K. declaring war on Germany after the war it was no longer free as the allies had lost the war in Europe. Now I am trying to prove his nationality during that time but despite his name and rank being on Polish web sites as a member of the Polish forces fighting in the U.K. the Polish authorities can find no record of him. So much for being willing to die for one's country. The joke gets deeper - that part of Poland he was from is now part of the Ukraine. It is not impossible to say that Poland could in some scenario declare war on Ukraine so which country would he be willing to die for in that instance? The whole thing is obscene.


Polish WWII veterans were treated so badly after the war. They helped to liberate large parts of Western-Europe, but they never got the gratitude they deserved, and worse of all, many of them couldn't even return to their homeland as they were considered traitors by the Soviet rulers after the war for fighting along with the Western Allies.


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Quote by Simmerdownchick


This is beautiful. Thank you for posting it here


I wondered if this poem was known in the US. I think it is in the UK. It is iconic in Canada and taught in grade school as part of Remembrance Day. Canadians patriotism is expressed differently than in the US but this day is marked with respect by all. The blanket of poppies on the war memorials is a moving reminder of all who were lost in all the wars from WW I through to the present.
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My father was one of the first U.S. Army military police officers on the beach on D Day at Omaha Beach. Just as the door dropped down on their landing craft, there was a direct German artillery hit on the craft next to them that decimated a platoon of their fellow MPs, so body parts rained down on them as they waded ashore. Dad was shot as soon as he took his first steps on Omaha Beach. He was sent to a field hospital in France, where he was recovering. He and some other wounded troops were swimming in a pond when an artillery shell hit the pond. Dad had just stepped out of the water, so he was wounded again, while the others were all killed. Soon after he recovered from that, he was in liberated Paris in December, when he was sent to Belgium to help secure convoy routes at the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge. He and two other MPs were investigating a roadblock outside Bastogne which was not on their list. It turned out that it was part of a German effort to interrupt resupply for the Americans. The three MPs all got machine gunned, but managed to report back to HQ. That was dad's third Purple Heart. He recovered, and in the Spring, got his final WWII assignment. Nothing that had happened before prepared him for the horrors of Buchenwald. He was supposed to help survivors recover and try to get repatriated. His father had died when he was 12 and said that was the last time he had cried before Buchenwald. While he was at Buchenwald, he cried every single night. The stories he told me about Buchenwald will always be with me. Forgetting will never be an option for me.
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Reading these stories made me sad, it made me think of my father who just passed away at the age of 98. He served in the Navy, as a Gunners mate on the USS Iowa during the wwII .he only got hurt by the ejected shell
He made rank to chief pety officer. He always said they loved giving a ride to the other military units.... like the Marines. It made me laugh to hear him talk about some of the things that he used to do on the ship.
I thank God he could come home in one piece. Every three years members of the Iowa would get together . At his last reunion there was only,15, left living out of 75
I miss him every day. But I am proud to be his daughter.
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Quote by principessa


I wondered if this poem was known in the US. I think it is in the UK. It is iconic in Canada and taught in grade school as part of Remembrance Day. Canadians patriotism is expressed differently than in the US but this day is marked with respect by all. The blanket of poppies on the war memorials is a moving reminder of all who were lost in all the wars from WW I through to the present.


No, it's not. I've never read it before but I love the significance of it.

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Quote by 69Kisses96
My father was one of the first U.S. Army military police officers on the beach on D Day at Omaha Beach. Just as the door dropped down on their landing craft, there was a direct German artillery hit on the craft next to them that decimated a platoon of their fellow MPs, so body parts rained down on them as they waded ashore. Dad was shot as soon as he took his first steps on Omaha Beach. He was sent to a field hospital in France, where he was recovering. He and some other wounded troops were swimming in a pond when an artillery shell hit the pond. Dad had just stepped out of the water, so he was wounded again, while the others were all killed. Soon after he recovered from that, he was in liberated Paris in December, when he was sent to Belgium to help secure convoy routes at the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge. He and two other MPs were investigating a roadblock outside Bastogne which was not on their list. It turned out that it was part of a German effort to interrupt resupply for the Americans. The three MPs all got machine gunned, but managed to report back to HQ. That was dad's third Purple Heart. He recovered, and in the Spring, got his final WWII assignment. Nothing that had happened before prepared him for the horrors of Buchenwald. He was supposed to help survivors recover and try to get repatriated. His father had died when he was 12 and said that was the last time he had cried before Buchenwald. While he was at Buchenwald, he cried every single night. The stories he told me about Buchenwald will always be with me. Forgetting will never be an option for me.


that's an amazing and powerful story. thanks so much for sharing his memories. i can't even imagine experiencing any of that.

You can’t truly call yourself peaceful unless you are capable of violence. If you’re not capable of violence, you’re not peaceful. You’re harmless.

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The only national war museum in the US not in Washington is the World War I Museum in Kansas City, MO. When you enter and pay the admission price, you enter the exhibition space over a large Plexiglas bridge. Below you is a field of poppies - one poppy for each US war dead. On the wall is that poem. It is very moving.
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Wilfred Owen is the poet who best captured the futility of war. He was killed on the Somme on 4 November 1918 just one week before the end of the war. This is his last poem.

STRANGE MEETING

It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.

Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,—
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
“Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.”
“None,” said that other, “save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled.
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery;
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.

“I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now. . . .”
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So all this adds up to the fact that war is a bad idea. So don't do it rather than eulogize the poor bastards who you conscripted to carry out the insanity.
Primus Omnium
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Quote by principessa


I wondered if this poem was known in the US. I think it is in the UK. It is iconic in Canada and taught in grade school as part of Remembrance Day. Canadians patriotism is expressed differently than in the US but this day is marked with respect by all. The blanket of poppies on the war memorials is a moving reminder of all who were lost in all the wars from WW I through to the present.


This poem may not be "known" in the USA today, but it surely was when I was in elementary school. Back then we memorized poetry in our language arts classes. I can still quote In Flanders Fields to this day.
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Quote by Jack_42
So all this adds up to the fact that war is a bad idea. So don't do it rather than eulogize the poor bastards who you conscripted to carry out the insanity.


Excuse me. My Great Grandfather wasn't conscripted, he came here from Brno of his own free will with several of his comrades. He wasn't a 'poor bastard.'

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I thought maybe people would like to learn a little history about the poem, ‘Flanders Fields’, and would like to know how the poppy became associated with November 11, Remembrance Day. Why has that distinctive red flower become such a potent symbol of our memories of the sacrifices made by our fallen heroes in past wars?

Scarlet corn poppies (popaver rhoeas) grow naturally in conditions of disturbed earth throughout Western Europe. The destruction brought by the Napoleonic wars of the early 19th Century transformed bare land into fields of blood red poppies, growing around the bodies of fallen soldiers. Once the conflict was over the poppy was one of the few plants to grow on the otherwise barren battlefields.

World War 1 ripped those same fields open once again as it raged through Europe’s heart in late 1914. Flanders Fields is a common English name of the World War I battlefields in an area straddling the Belgian provinces of West Flanders and East Flanders as well as the French department of Nord-Pas-de-Calais, part of which makes up the area known as French Flanders.

Flanders Field American Cemetery and Memorial is a World War I cemetery on the southeast edge of the town of Waregem, Belgium. The architect Paul Cret designed the memorial. This is the only American World War I cemetery in Belgium and 411 American servicemen are buried or commemorated there.

The Battle of Flanders (French: Bataille des Flandres) is the name of several battles fought in Flanders (a region in northern France and Belgium) during the First World War. First Battle of Flanders (19 October – 22 November 1914) - The First Battle of Ypres - a battle fought during the Race to the Sea.

The significance of the poppy as a lasting memorial symbol to the fallen was realised by the Canadian surgeon John McCrae in his poem In Flanders Fields. The poppy came to represent the immeasurable sacrifice made by his comrades and quickly became a lasting memorial to those who died in World War 1 and later conflicts. The Royal British Legion, which formed in 1921, adopted the poppy as the symbol for their Poppy Appeal, to aid those serving in the British Armed Forces. That simple flower has been the symbol of Remembrance ever since.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (November 30, 1872 – January 28, 1918) was a Canadian poet, physician, author, artist and soldier during World War I, and a surgeon during the Second Battle of Ypres, in Belgium. He is best known for writing the war memorial poem ‘In Flanders Fields’.

The sight of poppies growing in battle-scarred fields inspired him, so on May 3, 1915, shortly after he presided over the funeral of a friend and fellow soldier, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, who died in the Second Battle of Ypres, wrote the now famous poem. We may never know the exact details of how he wrote the first draft, because there are various accounts by those who were with McCrae at that time.

‘In Flanders Fields’ is a war poem written in the form of a rondeau. The poem describes poppies blooming between gravestones. The major theme of the poem is the juxtaposition between life and death and talks about how quickly the world spins between the two. It is a poem about soldiers dying in combat, and Flanders Fields is a graveyard. The poem is from the view of the dead soldiers. The rhyming scheme and choice of words, give it a very emotional and dramatic tone.
If you're feeling bored during this Covid-19 epidemic I’d like to suggest
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It's about a mistake in judgment a lady makes concerning a friend, based
on the hurtful words of someone that only thinks of himself. Will that
conniving person succeed in ruining a beautiful friendship, or will she see
through his lies? It's gradually creeping up towards the 30,000 mark
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www.lushstories.com/stories/first-time/apologize.aspx
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Quote by DanielleX
You came here, all those years ago, when the old country was in turmoil,

You made such a sacrifice, leaving your wife, to land on our soil.

It must have been hard, but you stood fast in the face of the enemy,

You arrived in a strange country, to give what you could without ceremony.

In those dark days, you lost some of your pals as they paid with their lives,

So that we could be free, you flew missions again and again.

I wish I had known you for longer and I could have listened to your story,

I have my Nana - your daughter to tell me about the triumph and glory.

I will hold your distant memory in my heart, always close inside,

I will never forget what you did for us and I'm wearing my poppy with pride.




THANK YOU Danielle for writing and posting such a moving and heart felt poem. You have managed to speak volumes in those few simple words. This is a truly beautiful piece of writing. Thanks also for creating this thread. Those of us here today will never know the horrors our ancestors went through so we could have the easy life we now enjoy. The only way we can even begin to pay them back for all they did, is to keep the torch of liberty and freedoms burning bright, because if we let it dim or flicker even the slightest, then all they fought and died for will have been in vain. This is why it is so very important that we remember our past and keep reminding others also.
If you're feeling bored during this Covid-19 epidemic I’d like to suggest
you take a peek at a story I collaborated with SueBrasil, a brilliant author.
It's about a mistake in judgment a lady makes concerning a friend, based
on the hurtful words of someone that only thinks of himself. Will that
conniving person succeed in ruining a beautiful friendship, or will she see
through his lies? It's gradually creeping up towards the 30,000 mark
and we’d love any votes or hearing whatever comments you may wish
to make. It is listed in my profile under ‘FAVOURITES’ as Apologize.

www.lushstories.com/stories/first-time/apologize.aspx
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Quote by LikeToWrite


THANK YOU Danielle for writing and posting such a moving and heart felt poem. You have managed to speak volumes in those few simple words. This is a truly beautiful piece of writing. Thanks also for creating this thread. Those of us here today will never know the horrors our ancestors went through so we could have the easy life we now enjoy. The only way we can even begin to pay them back for all they did, is to keep the torch of liberty and freedoms burning bright, because if we let it dim or flicker even the slightest, then all they fought and died for will have been in vain. This is why it is so very important that we remember our past and keep reminding others also.


Thank you for your kind words. I couldn't agree more with what you say

Danny x

A First Class Service Ch.5

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Quote by Jack_42
So all this adds up to the fact that war is a bad idea. So don't do it rather than eulogize the poor bastards who you conscripted to carry out the insanity.


My great-great grandfather was not conscripted, he was in the British Expeditionary Force in 1914 that held back the Germans against insurmountable odds to prevent them taking France in WW1.

My great-uncles both volunteered and served with distinction in WW2 in the Middle East and Burma.

My grandfathers and their five brothers volunteered and fought on land, sea and air in Europe, the Middle East and the Atlantic.

My great-great grandfather never came home, in fact nearly 90% of the BEF gave their lives in the first year.

Neither did one of my great-uncles.

My grandfathers lost three of their brothers.

At home, my family endured one of the most horrific domestic bombing raids of WW2, my father remembers the terror he felt as a four year old.

We cannot forget and will never forget.

They fought for the liberty that gives you the right to say that, they paid a blood price so you have the right to say what you think.
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Quote by TheTravellingMan


My great-great grandfather was not conscripted, he was in the British Expeditionary Force in 1914 that held back the Germans against insurmountable odds to prevent them taking France in WW1.

My great-uncles both volunteered and served with distinction in WW2 in the Middle East and Burma.

My grandfathers and their five brothers volunteered and fought on land, sea and air in Europe, the Middle East and the Atlantic.

My great-great grandfather never came home, in fact nearly 90% of the BEF gave their lives in the first year.

Neither did one of my great-uncles.

My grandfathers lost three of their brothers.

At home, my family endured one of the most horrific domestic bombing raids of WW2, my father remembers the terror he felt as a four year old.

We cannot forget and will never forget.

They fought for the liberty that gives you the right to say that, they paid a blood price so you have the right to say what you think.


A very felicitous contribution, if I may say so.

D x

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Quote by DanielleX


Thank you for your kind words. I couldn't agree more with what you say

Danny x


You're welcome.
WOW! I can hardly believe it. I finally get to meet a very nice lady that agrees with everything I say. And such a sweet girl she is too.
If you're feeling bored during this Covid-19 epidemic I’d like to suggest
you take a peek at a story I collaborated with SueBrasil, a brilliant author.
It's about a mistake in judgment a lady makes concerning a friend, based
on the hurtful words of someone that only thinks of himself. Will that
conniving person succeed in ruining a beautiful friendship, or will she see
through his lies? It's gradually creeping up towards the 30,000 mark
and we’d love any votes or hearing whatever comments you may wish
to make. It is listed in my profile under ‘FAVOURITES’ as Apologize.

www.lushstories.com/stories/first-time/apologize.aspx
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Quote by LikeToWrite


You're welcome.
WOW! I can hardly believe it. I finally get to meet a very nice lady that agrees with everything I say. And such a sweet girl she is too.


Nawww shucks!

A First Class Service Ch.5

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Bonnet Flaunter
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Just adding to your thread Danny, with one of my favourite poems by Edward Thomas. He was a professional prose writer, mainly about countryside matters, before the outbreak of war in 1914. Despite being in his 40's and married with a family, he joined up in the latter part of WW1, and died at the Battle of Arras in 1917. This poem is so beautifully understated, and not what we might perceive as a war poem, but for me anyway, its sense of humanity speaks volumes.

The Owl

Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;
Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof
Against the North wind; tired, yet so that rest
Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof.

Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest,
Knowing how hungry, cold, and tired was I.
All of the night was quite barred out except
An owl’s cry, a most melancholy cry

Shaken out long and clear upon the hill,
No merry note, nor cause of merriment,
But one telling me plain what I escaped
And others could not, that night, as in I went.

And salted was my food, and my repose,
Salted and sobered, too, by the bird’s voice
Speaking for all who lay under the stars,
Soldiers and poor, unable to rejoice.
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Quote by principessa
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Written by John McCrae, a Canadian soldier and doctor in the wake of WW I. I believe that this is the origin of the poppy we wear in the weeks preceding November 11. The poppies are then placed on local war memorials, blanketing them in red.


J......, I live in MA, and we all had to memorize and discuss this poem here as children. Every year it seems, we all try to reassemble the words together. When I first memorized it, there were still lots of people from the Great War alive, here, in your beloved Canada, and in Europe. They could help us then with the words. Now we who have used this poem as a remembrance are fading into the past. I am proud to say that members of my family have fought in every major war my country has engaged in since the War for Independence. The last three lines in the poem hit me hard now and make me fearful for our future as our ancestors did. But we who love our own families, and what we have done, will never give up!
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Quote by DanielleX


Excuse me. My Great Grandfather wasn't conscripted, he came here from Brno of his own free will with several of his comrades. He wasn't a 'poor bastard.'





OK my correction The Majority of poor bastards who were conscripted.
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These are very beautiful poems and the stories are always thrilling and inspiring. The sacrifices and commitment of the men and women that went through those times were absolutely amazing. I do not have a poem but the thread title caught me and I wanted to share a few videos that I recently (Veterans day) found and thought you might like. This first one I really like because it helps show what the soldier's heroes (his or her family) go through. Soldiers do not ever feel like heroes, it is just a duty they feel they have to meet. To us, the real heroes are the family members that have to maintain their lives while there soldier is away and in harm's way. I will forever thank God for my ex and what she sacrificed for me.

There are times she is kneeling out of obedience, reverence and respect. Those are the times it is okay to stand above her. But when she is kneeling because the weight of the world is just too heavy to bear … that is when You should be kneeling beside her.

Daddy has a lovely family - Daddy’s Little Family … https://www.lushstories.com/stories/flash-erotica/-daddys-little-family-.aspx

He is behind the curtain - Someone’s Watching ... https://www.lushstories.com/stories/masturbation/-someones-watching-.aspx

Some childhood memories return - Memories of Daddy … https://www.lushstories.com/stories/microfiction/-memories-of-daddy-.aspx

Just a ride in the country - Afternoon Distraction …
https://www.lushstories.com/stories/microfiction/-afternoon-distraction-.aspx

She waits to keep a promise - Promises …
https://www.lushstories.com/stories/microfiction/-promises-.aspx
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This one I was watching and my grandson was standing in the doorway. When it ended he walked over and gave me a hug telling me ... "Thank you, Papaw" ...

There are times she is kneeling out of obedience, reverence and respect. Those are the times it is okay to stand above her. But when she is kneeling because the weight of the world is just too heavy to bear … that is when You should be kneeling beside her.

Daddy has a lovely family - Daddy’s Little Family … https://www.lushstories.com/stories/flash-erotica/-daddys-little-family-.aspx

He is behind the curtain - Someone’s Watching ... https://www.lushstories.com/stories/masturbation/-someones-watching-.aspx

Some childhood memories return - Memories of Daddy … https://www.lushstories.com/stories/microfiction/-memories-of-daddy-.aspx

Just a ride in the country - Afternoon Distraction …
https://www.lushstories.com/stories/microfiction/-afternoon-distraction-.aspx

She waits to keep a promise - Promises …
https://www.lushstories.com/stories/microfiction/-promises-.aspx