slav.mav On this day, in 1918, my great-grandfather, my great-great-great-grandfather, and my grandfather's cousins were told the war they'd all been conscripted into, by America and Prussia, had finally ended. They were the lucky ones, who lived long enough to come home, tell their stories, and die peacefully as old men. Others were given no such luxuries. It is for them -- all of them that I wear my poppies every day. Some were given the ability to return home. Many bore battle scars, stumps where limbs once were, permanent tremors, nightmares, flashbacks, emotional distress, eyepatches, missing fingers or toes, and other marks of their service. More still were not afforded the chance to come home. People still come home with these same issues from the military today. It's today that we have the opportunity to show gratitude to those currently serving in all capacities, those who served their time with honor, and those who gave their lives for their nations. Keep their memories alive. Memento Mori. "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." - John McCrae #armisticeday #veteransday #wwi #poppies #airforce #army #navy #marinecorps #coastguard #spaceforce #military less
A-1H Skyraider "Paper Tiger II" (which was a temporary name used for just this one flight) of VA-25 "Fist of the Fleet" being readied for a mission over the Mekong Delta aboard the USS Midway (CVA-41), in October 1965.
To commemorate the mark of having delivered 6,000,000 lb. of ordnance this aircraft was equipped with a toilet!
There are skies that speak in thunder —
and some that simply breathe.
This morning, the light didn’t shout.
It just waited,
held back by a curtain of clouds,
whispering softly:
“I am still here.”
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