Who We Are

Who We Are
by Vela Eddie

Who we are you ask
We live on our feet, definitely
Will not live on our knees.
When duty calls
We leave everything behind
Family, friends everything we love.
We will kill for those who cannot kill
Die for those too scared to

We fight for what many wont
We take the punishment and pay the price
For all that you enjoy.
Fear not our fate, enjoy your freedom
While it is not free, we will pay your share
Often ultimate sacrifice is the cost.
There is nothing you should fear.
We have your back, the bullets hit our chest.

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Who Went and Didn’t Come Back

Who Went and Didn’t Come Back
Julia Holewinski

Your heart is the strongest strength,
even if it is purple.
Or broken,
like the families,
who loved ones went to war and will never come back.
They are strong,
so are you.
On Memorial Day,
guess who it’s dedicated to,
that family member,
or other members of families,
who didn’t come back.
Who went and didn’t come back.
Always in prayers,
they’re okay up there,
they went to war and didn’t come back.
Or did they?
Not physically, anyway.
But when you say they didn’t come back,
they can still live,
always around you,
with you,
in you.
They went to war and came back.
They came back in you.
In your heart.
In your mind.
And they will never leave again.

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Dear Sgt. Grit,
my name is Bryce Walters. im from comanche texas and im 18 years old. im enlisted in the marines and ship out for San Diego on July 20th of 2007. My older step brother is also in the marines and currently serving in Baghdad. I wrote this poem to my family so they would understand why im making this choice that others are too scared to make.

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Wings of Hope by Francis X Curran

“Wings of Hope”
By Francis X Curran 5-23-2004

They stormed ashore on a beach named Hell,
Bullets and shrapnel humming deaths song.
Looking over to where a Marine just fell,
Calling, Corpsman, Corpsman, in a voice once strong.
Praying for a helping hand,
Staring into a fading sky.
Life?s blood staining the sand,
Dodging the stinging messengers of death,
Doing his damnedest, to ply his trade.
This Hero kneels in deaths dark door,
Tends the wound, and pulls him from the sea.
Knowing that this day there will be many more,
But, today, God will hear this mans plea.
And as I looked around again,
My mind filled with many things.
But I want to make this one thing plain,
Despite the panic and the fear, this thing
I saw, I still hold dear,
And this I’ll swear, and swear again,
The Corpsman turned his back, and then
This sight I saw, I still see yet,
And pray to God that I won?t forget,
As through combat zones, I grope,
The day a Corpsman sprouted Angel wings of hope.

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Patriotic Poetry dedicated to those who Protect Us

For our Protectors
by: Wendy Wirth
Poet and admirer of all who protect us
Ames, IA

Sgt Grit:
I just read your newsletter and would like to comment on Michelle Christman?s letter. I totally agree with her about the WWII memorial. I went to Washington, D.C. on the 9th of May. Even though this was to be my 3rd time visiting, I had never gone to any of the memorials. I had read that the WWII memorial was open somewhere, though my parents and brother kept insisting it wasn?t. On the 8th we went out there and I dragged them around the huge wall that surrounds the Washington Monument to the WWII memorial, and I was right it was open. It was a unique experience, I have the tendency to stop and let my eyes take things in, I seem to remember more that way. After we walked around the whole memorial, and saw the pillar for Iowa (my home state) we walked up the reflecting pool to the Lincoln Monument. On the way there we stopped at two more memorials. I?m not sure what the first one was called, it was round, sort of resembling the Jefferson, very cool, I happened to see it because I glanced over at a certain time. I don?t know why, I think it was God who wanted me to see it. The next one we stopped at was the Korean War Memorial, also very moving. On our way to a place to eat we stopped at the Vietnam Memorial, the Wall, as we were walking past it, we got the chance to view a crew inscribing a new name into it, it was an experience, I don?t actually have the words for it at the moment. I?d like to include a poem I wrote on my way back to the hotel that I believe my moving experience at the memorials helped me write.

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Witness to the Corps

Dear Sirs:

Our Marine Corps League Detachment #1263 has an outstanding member by the name of Bill Crider. He has dreamed his whole life of being a marine. He is now 77 years old and tried to enlist in the Corps in 1949. He has had a almost total hearing loss since his youth and for this reason, was denied. He did serve in the Civil Air Patrol for 5 years. Bill’s dream of being a Marine has been filled with his membership as an associate member in our detachment. Bill wears the complete uniform with great pride, volunteers for everything and works tirelessly for the good of our organization.

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