Freedom Isn’t Free

 

I’ve posted this before, and it’s time to post it again:

I watched the flag pass by one day
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it
And then he stood at ease.

I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud.
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He stood out in the crowd.

I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers’ tears?

How many pilots’ planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes—soldiers’ graves?
No, Freedom isn’t free

I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant “Amen”
When the flag had draped the coffin
of a brother, son, or friend.

I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons, and husbands
With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in Arlington . . .
No—Freedom isn’t free.

—Anonymous

Published in Military
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There are 3 comments.

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  1. Bryan G. Stephens Thatcher
    Bryan G. Stephens
    @BryanGStephens

    I am so glad today is a day my wife is with us.

    • #1
  2. Jim George Member
    Jim George
    @JimGeorge

    This is beautiful beyond words. Thank you.

    • #2
  3. Stad Coolidge
    Stad
    @Stad

    Jim George (View Comment):

    This is beautiful beyond words. Thank you.

    I wish I could remember when and where I found it.  I did some slight editing to improve the rhythm and flow of the words . . .

    • #3
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