Memorial Day Weekend

[oldsoldier]

My thoughts and prayers are on those men and women who gave their lives to protect our country and freedom.

For anyone traveling have a safe trip especially on the roads.

[Iron mike]

on behalf of those of us in the service we rely appreciate these things like this THANK YOU

[Snow Walker]

on behalf of those of us in the service we rely appreciate these things like this THANK YOU

Not only are you in our thoughts this weekend, but you will always be in our Thoughts and Prayers 365 days a year!! Most importantly, never let us forget those who made the ultimate sacrifice and their families.

"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived." Gen. George S. Patton

[TennOutdoors]

my thanks and prayers to all my brothers and sisters in Uniform past and present. my Prayers for the Fallen and their family's.

to My dad KIA July 4th 1969. who died saving the men of his platoon. they lived to return and raise family's. Rest in Peace. and to the men of his platoon. You guys are great, it was nice meeting you folks. Drink a beer in his honor. Next time Dinner is on me.

Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
By Sir Walter Scott

Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking:
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.
In our isle's enchanted hall,
Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
Fairy strains of music fall,
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Dream of fighting fields no more:
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.

No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
Armour's clang, or war-steed champing,
Trump nor pibroch summon here
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
At the day-break from the fallow,
And the bittern sound his drum,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.
Ruder sounds shall none be near,
Guards nor warders challenge here,
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.

Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
While our slumbrous spells assail ye,
Dream not, with the rising sun,
Bugles here shall sound reveillé.
Sleep! the deer is in his den;
Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying;
Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,
How thy gallant steed lay dying.
Huntsman, rest; thy chase is done,
Think not of the rising sun,
For at dawning to assail ye,
Here no bugles sound reveillé.