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Repair Man
May 29th, 2006, 11:25 PM
...Throughout the bloody morning, fresh troops landed on the beaches. Tangible progress was achieved in the opening hour and a half of combat. By 10:35 A.M., a small group of men from the first assault waves -- Company A of the 28th Regiment -- had survived a near suicidal, seven-hundred-yard dash across the island. The reptile's head was alive and deadly, but it had been severed.

How they got there was a portrait of American victory in microcosm. They got there with courage best exemplified by Tony Stein's head-long charge.

Stein was a twenty-three-year-old corporal from Dayton who became the first Medal of Honor winner on Iwo. For the risky mission he'd armed himself with a stinger gun, a light machine gun he'd taken from an airplane and adapted into a rapid-fire gun. When his comrades were stalled on their dash by concentrated Japanese fire, Stein stood upright, drawing the enemy's fire and allowing his buddies to get into position. But Stein was just getting warmed up. His next move was to charge the nearby Japanese pillboxes, alone. He did this several times, killing twenty of the enemy in close-range combat. Out of ammunition, he threw off his helmet and shoes and hurried barefoot to the beach to resupply himself. He did this eight times, carrying a wounded man to safety on each trip. Later in the day he covered the withdrawal of his platoon to the company position, though his weapon was shot from his hands twice...

On March 1st, 1945, just two weeks after his heroics, Tony Stein was gunned-down by Japanese soldiers on the island of Iwo Jima. Tony Stein was but one of 27 men who would receive the Congressional Medal of Honor on Iwo Jima (80 were awarded total throughout all of World War II).

Within the last few decades, our views of war have changed drastically. The political and military blunders of both Vietnam and Iraq have cast a shadow upon the sacrifice of our nation's soldiers.

Although it's getting late in the day, it's never too late to reflect upon the countless lives that have been lost forging and shaping our country over the last 230 years. For just one day, forget about the politics and the bullshit and say a prayer for those that have lost their lives in battle.

The quoted paragraphs are from the book Flags of Our Fathers, which was written by Jack Bradley, the son of one of the six men who hoisted the American Flag atop Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima.

SUPITSREV
May 30th, 2006, 01:00 PM
woah stop changing the internet please

mag
May 30th, 2006, 01:29 PM
The local news was covering cemetary after cemetary and I was getting very pissed without seeing Mavericks highlights.

Oh and thanks to all those soldiers who died for our President's ambitions.

SteelValor
May 30th, 2006, 04:21 PM
Mike Smith, Challenger Pilot. F4 Pilot, Mentor ... I miss him and consider him a hero of mine.

ass*assassin
May 30th, 2006, 08:08 PM
i went to a nearby national cemetary and visited two friends that didn't make it back.. like me, they are/were single and didn't have much of a family.. they never realized their potential, they never had kids and will never see their grandchildren..

it's been too long since i went to see my friends. the really sad part is, that the cemetary was pretty much empty except for me and a few others, and it should have been full in rememberance to those that were buried there.. unlike some, i will never forget my buds that didn't make it back. And no, i didn't leave without shedding a few tears, and having a drink and a salute to my friends..

Janus
May 30th, 2006, 08:46 PM
good thread. I called my grandpa (WWII) and told him happy Memorial Day. Although he obviously has not passed yet, it was a good sentiment to carry on.

VeeKaChu
May 30th, 2006, 09:00 PM
Ira Hayes,
Ira Hayes

Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Gather round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land

Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water stopped

Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed

Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again

And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes

Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Ira returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand

But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
And when did the Indians dance

Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Then Ira started drinkin' hard;
Jail was often his home
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
like you'd throw a dog a bone!

He died drunk one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes

Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died

...since we're quoting stories about Iwo.

MV8
May 30th, 2006, 10:57 PM
WHAT IS A VET?

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a aged scar, a certain look in the eye.
Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together,a piece of shrapnel in the leg, or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem.
You can't tell a vet just by looking. What is a vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run
out of fuel. He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.
She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang. He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL. He is the Quantico drill instructor that has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs. He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand. He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals passhim by. He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and
aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who
wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the
nightmares come. He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.
Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU".

Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, Lt. Col., USMC





This medic offers a thank you to all of the Vets who haunt this board.