LETTER FROM THE CIVIL WAR
Major Sullivan Ballou,Second Regiment, Rhode Island Volunteers,wrote the following letter to his wife from a camp just outside the nation's capital. This beautiful and passionate letter, gets me every time. Some of you will remember it from Ken Burns PBS series, The Civil War.He and twenty-seven of his men would die one week later at the Battle of Bull Run.
LETTER TO HIS WIFE (1861)
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days -- perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure -- and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing -- perfectly willing -- to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows -- when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children -- is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles I have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me -- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours -- always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan
LETTER FROM WORLD WAR 1
Lloyd Maywood Staley,to his sweetheart Mary Beatrice Gray.
November 28, 1918
My Dearest Mary,
I have had two letters from you since I wrote last. These were dated November 1 and 4. One was the little Thanksgiving card and the other was the one containing the picture of you at your desk. It was a splendid picture and I am very proud of it. One of these times, if I have an opportunity, I intend to have my picture taken. The fellows here that have tried to get pictures have had so much trouble, I have not had the courage to start out. Maybe now that the war is over, things will loosen up over here.
Am still at St. Mihiel and am sure I don't know which way we are going to move next. There are rumors of going to Germany and still others of going towards the coast. I am anxious to see Hunland, myself, even if we aren't the first troops of occupation.
I was off duty all day today. We are taking our Thanksgiving vacation by turns, one half the force today and the other half next Sunday.
I did not have much to amuse myself at but I did enjoy a good clean up. Spent part of the afternoon taking a walk. One of the boys and I were out to see the old Artillery Garrison where about ten thousand French soldiers were stationed before the war. There isn't much left of the barracks but the walls. The buildings that can be used at all are harboring Boche prisoners now. I can't see how the Boche tore this place up with artillery and leave it in the condition it is now. I think they ruined the place for pure cussedness.
The civilians are coming into the town now until the place is looking more like a place. It will take a lot of work to clean the place up. It is raining almost every day and these little old narrow streets and rough uneven sidewalks are covered with slush.
Well, I suppose before many months now we will again be in U.S.A. I see there are some units that were in England have already left for home. It seems almost too good to be true to believe that I can think of home and being near you once more. Don't you know, dearest, our golden ‘someday' is not so far away now. This is indeed a day of Thanksgiving. Never before in my experience over here have I realized how much we have to be thankful for that ordinarily we scarcely give a thought. I surely am thankful that I have such a wonderful country. I have often thought, what am I that I should be given the privilege of calling this wonderful country my country. And, dearest, you symbolize all that a country is to me. For without women such as you, there could be no nation. So, soon I am coming back to you and for you, my own little girl. Goodnight for a little time.
With truest love, Your own Lloyd
LETTER FROM VIETNAM:
Stanley Homiski served with B Troop, 3/4 Cav, 25th Inf Div starting as an RTO and ending his tour as the Commo Sgt. He was married shortly before shipping out.
25 May, 1968
Dear Roberta,
Today is probably the worst day I have ever lived in my entire, short life. Once again we were in contact with Charlie, and once again we suffered losses. The losses we had today hit home, as my best friend in this shit hole was killed. He was only 22 years old and was going on R&R on the first of June to meet his wife in Hawaii. I feel that if I was only a half second sooner in pulling the trigger, he would still be alive.
Strange how short a time a half of a second is--the difference between life and death. This morning we were talking about how we were only two years different in age and how we both had gotten married before coming to this place. You know, I can still feel his presence as I write this letter and hope that I am able to survive and leave this far behind me.
If there is a place called Hell this surely must be it, and we must be the Devil's disciples doing all his dirty work. I keep asking myself if there is a God, then how the hell come young men with so much to live for have to die. I just hope that his death is not in vain.
I look forward to the day when I will take my R&R. If I play my cards right, I should be able to get it for Hawaii so our anniversary will be in that time frame. The reason I say this is by Sept., I will have more than enough time in country to get my pick of places and dates. I promise I will do everything necessary to insure that I make that date, and I hope that tomorrow is quiet.
We will be going into base camp soon for our three-day stand down. I will try to write you a longer letter at that time. Please don't worry too much about me, as if you won't, for I will take care of myself and look forward to the day I am able to be with you again.
Love,
Stan
THE SCHOOL DESKS
Back in September of 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies school teacher at Robinson High School in Little Rock , did something not to be forgotten.
On the first day of school, with the permission
of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she removed all of the desks out of her classroom. When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks.
Looking around, confused, they asked,Ms.Cothren,where're our desks?" She replied, "You can't have a desk until you tell me what you have done to earn the right to sit at a desk." They thought, "Well, maybe it's our grades." "No," she said.
"Maybe it's our behavior." She told them, "No,
it's not even your behavior." And so, they came and went, the first period,second period, third period. Still no desks in the classroom. By early afternoon television news crews had started gathering in Ms. Cothren's classroom to report about this crazy tea cher who had taken all the desks out of her room. The final period of the day came and as sthepuzzled students found seats on the floor of the deskless classroom.
Martha Cothren said, "Throughout the day no one
has been able to tell me just what he/she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom. Now I am going to tell you."
At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the
door of her classroom and opened it. Twenty-seven (27) U.S. Veterans,all in uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. The Vets began placing the school desks in rows, and then
they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place those kids started to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned. Martha said, "You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks.These heroes did it for you They placed the desks here for you. Now,it's up to you to sit in them It is your responsibility to learn, to be
good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education.
Don't ever forget it."
By the way, this is a true story...If you can read this, Thank a teacher.If you read it in English,Thank a soldier
ATTA BOY!
United States Marine was attending some college courses between assignments. He had completed missions in Iraq and Afghanistan. One of the courses had a professor who was a vowed atheist and a member of the A C L U. One day the professor shocked the class when he came in. He looked to the ceiling and flatly stated, GOD, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I'll give you exactly 15 minutes.
The lecture room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. Ten minutes went by and the professor proclaimed, here I am GOD. I'm still waiting. It got down to the last couple of minutes when the Marine got out of his chair, went up to the professor, and cold-cocked him; knocking him off the platform.
The professor was out cold. The Marine went back to his seat and sat there, silently. The other students were shocked and stunned and sat there looking on in silence.
The professor eventually came to, noticeably shaken, looked at the Marine and asked, "what is the matter with you? Why did you do that?"
The Marine calmly replied, GOD was too busy today protecting America's soldiers who are protecting your right to say stupid things and act like an idiot. So, HE SENT ME!!
MY HERO! Member of the Berlin Brigade "Gators"
THANK YOU TO ALL VETERANS!
Later Ya'll...^Belle^
BUT THE MAIN ONE IS GET A TATTOO.
No. The answer is no.
