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They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Lest We Forget

Only four guys left now in the UK. 3 still able to lead the parade

A salute to those who served, are serving, or will serve. Thank you. PR's just a game but you guys all put yourselves at risk for us back home in real life.




on a weeaboo side note, today is also Pocky day here in Japan because the 1111 of 11/11 is like 4 sticks of...pocky...

The blood of men flows ever out As raging rivers to the sea
There seems to be an endless source From long lost memory
The young men come to volunteer To shed their blood once more
They've heard the call to bleed again Upon some distant shore
Why is the call to die so strong That men will heed the call
Or do they think they're not the ones Who'll take the final fall
It's always someone else who dies Not we who volunteer
We think we'll never be the one And laugh to hide our fear
But deep within our inner souls We know we may be wrong
That death may be around the turn Our life may not be long
But never mind we heard the call We line up in our ranks
And a grateful nation will be there To give us all their thanks
They'll build for us a monument Young boys will come to stare
And they will be the next to go To shed their blood somewhere



I have that poem, along with a few cherished pictures, in a zip lock bag in the back pocket of my body armor. That way no matter what, I know someone will always have my back.

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
wilfred Owen, 1893-1918

The bravest are wasted on war, yet good deeds go unaccompanied.

...mongol...

It's the opening of carnival here today.

by John McCrae, May 1915

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.

I visted the battlefields of Belgium when I was younger and the left a very strong impression on me, every schoolchild should go at least once.

Not even sure if this is supposed to go here, but here we go

Most of you should know this poem (personally everyone affected by war should know it). It was written by John McCrae On 2 May, 1915, in the second week of fighting during the Second Battle of Ypres Lieutenant Alexis Helmer was killed by a German artillery shell. He was a friend of the Canadian military doctor Major John McCrae. It is believed that John began the draft for his famous poem 'In Flanders Fields' that evening.




In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

"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."


Lest We Forget...

I love this poem. I also had to resite this poem last year and pick this one out of about 30.

Dude388 wrote: In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

Lest We Forget...

Great minds think alike

Dr2B Rudd wrote:Great minds think alike

He had made his own thread in the PR discussion section so when I came across it I just merged it here. Just so you all don't think he was totally oblivious to the poem being posted once in this thread 'already'

[R-DEV]OkitaMakoto wrote:He had made his own thread in the PR discussion section so when I came across it I just merged it here. Just so you all don't think he was totally oblivious to the poem being posted once in this thread 'already'

but.....I thought I'd finally found my soulmate ops:

Dr2B Rudd wrote:but.....I thought I'd finally found my soulmate ops:

Think of it like this:

He posted halfway around the world[another sub forum] the exact same poem, and now he moved to the same country[sub forum] I'd say that's pretty soul-matey

But back on topic...

'[R-DEV wrote:OkitaMakoto;845393']Think of it like this:

He posted halfway around the world[another sub forum] the exact same poem, and now he moved to the same country[sub forum] I'd say that's pretty soul-matey

But back on topic...

Me and Rudd are usually on the same page about things. Like he said, we have a mental link

P.S. When I searched for the poem on the forum, I stupidly only searched the poem in the TITLE, without checking the entire post itself...my bad ops:.

Lest we forget.

Lest we forget.

Tommy by Rudyard Kipling

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

Not a single person here has even mentioned Veteran's Day yet.

Remembrance Day, Veterans Day and Armistice day are exactly the same thing.





Props to Cain for finding the pics,

We will Remember

Veterans day is in June, today is Armastice day.

A heartfelt thank you to all of those brave men and women who have served and those who continue to do so. I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay.