Look God:
I have never spoken to You,
But now I want to say,
“How do You do.”
You see God,
they told me You did not exist;
And, like a fool,
I believed all of this.

Last night from a shell hole
I saw Your sky;
I figured right then
they had told me a lie.
Had I taken the time
to see the things You made,
I would know they weren’t calling
a spade a spade.

I wonder, God,
if You would shake my hand;
Somehow, I feel
that You will understand.
Strange, I had to come
to this hellish place
Before I had time to see Your face.

Well, I guess there isn’t
much more to say,
But I am sure glad, God,
I met You today.

I guess the zero hour
will soon be here,
But I am not afraid
since I know You are near.

The signal - well, God,
I will have to go;
I love you lots,
this I want you to know.
Looks like this will be
a horrible fight;
Who knows, I may come
to your house tonight.

Though I wasn’t friendly
with you before,
I wonder, God,
if you would wait at the door.

Look, I am crying,
me shedding tears!
I wish I had known you
these many years.

Well, I will have to go now, God.
Goodbye
Strange, since I met you,
I am not afraid to die.

Author Unknown

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WHAT IS A VET?

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg--or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's alloy forged in the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking.

What is a vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.

He is the bar room loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL.

He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat--but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket -- palsied now and aggravatingly slow -- who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife was still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being--a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. We will never be able to repay the debt of gratitude we owe.

~Author Unknown~