1. Wrote my thoughts on my blog, but noticed America must be at the Mall, there are lots of stories out there so I thought I would open the comments, I know your post about the Marines on guard in Iraq was better than anything I could tell you. Thanks for being a veteran.

  2. It’s the Military, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.
    It’s the Military, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.
    It’s the Military, not the politicians, that ensures our right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
    It’s the Military, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.
    Thank you all.

  3. Thoughts of so many young men pass through my mind on this day. Some came home. Some I will never see again. I wish to say to all who have served–a heartfelt thank you for all you have done.

  4. Just a brief note to say a profound thank you to all the wonderful men and women serving in the Armed Forces of the Free World. Not matter what the cost, some of us will never forget your sacrifices.

  5. “Thank you” just doesn’t seem like enough to say to all those who have served and those serving now, those who are my heroes. Even though it’s not enough, I still offer my deepest, most heartfelt appreciation to our veterans!

  6. Last night at the local Cici’s, there were two long tables of Air Force ROTC from UVA. I know who they were, because I asked the young man who came up to the front to meet 3 soldiers who had just come in to join them. I shook his hand, thanked them all for choosing to serve, and said it was because of people like them that I had volunteered for Run For the Fallen this past summer.
    In the words of the Rodney Atkins song “I’ve Been Watching You”, my 11-year-old daughter (also a RFTF volunteer) went over to the 2 tables of ROTC already seated, and did the same thing. Some trends are good.
    I hope more of you have people tell you to your face, that you are appreciated.

  7. The following was posted on our USMC OCC forum. It was originaly written by a free lance writer. Her words are worth sharing, so here you go…
    “You are lions to little me, and what’s more, you never thought of yourselves as such.
    You stood in straight lines at attention where my legs buckle with fear, with fatigue, with laziness.
    You stayed kept your politics to yourself so that I might speak of reality television and infomercials.
    You bent with the weight of heavy gear and heavy responsibility so that I could stand impatiently in amusement park ride lines, cell phone in one hand, cold drink in the other.
    Your family followed you without complaint so that I can lay my head down at night without any real concern as to whether or not mine is safe.
    You drank dirty, warm water so that I could have my choice of bottled Perrier in the endless aisles of a well-swept grocery store.
    You submitted to the orders of others so that I can pick up and lay down work at will.
    You stayed up all night, watching, so that I could sleep in and roll my eyes at the cost of a Frappuccino.
    You missed the birth of your first child so that I could weep over not having had a vacation in the past year.
    You put your entire career on hold so that I could fret over the low pay for freelance writers these days.
    You endured desert heat so that I could smack at the thermostat and make a single phone call to fix it.
    You live in assigned quarters, tents even, so that I could complain about property taxes.
    You took hauled crates of humanitarian aid into Jeeps so that I could tap the softness of my arms and complain about the terrible shape I was in–how fat, how underdeveloped.
    You drove tanks into sniper fire so that I could look around the quiet streets of my small suburb and say, “There’s nothing going on around here.”
    You put off higher education so that I could gnash my teeth over my alma mater’s poor football showing.
    You shivered in driving rains so that I could tell everyone from my heated home that I was having trouble adjusting to these terrible Virginia winters after five years in Florida.
    You climbed into fighter jets so that I could balk at the poor customer service of the airlines.
    You read technical manuals so that I could kill twenty minutes with a gardening magazine.
    You deferred credit to others when I said, “Why aren’t I famous yet?”
    You ate another MRE so I could sigh over microwaved leftovers from a bulging refrigerator.
    You said, “Give me a gun,” when I said, “But a rerun of Golden Girls is on.”
    You said, “I’ll go,” when I said, “I’m too important here.”
    You said, “Send me,” when I said, “I’m afraid to die.”
    You said, “For others,” when I said, “For me.”
    And I thank you.”

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