The Soldier stood and faced his God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass.
"Step forward now you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
The Solider squared his shoulders and said
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just to steep,
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgement of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 
A SOLDIER
I was one of those that others did not dare to be
I went where others feared to go
And did what others failed to do
I asked nothing from those who gave nothing
And reluctantly accepted the thought of eternal loneliness
...Should I fail
I have seen the face of terror
Felt the sting of fear
And enjoyed the sweet taste of a moment's love
I have cried, pained and hoped
But most af all I have lived times
That others would say are best forgotten
At least now today
I am able to say
That I am proud of what I was
...A SOLDIER. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Just A Common Soldier
He was getting old and paunchy
and his hair was falling fast
And he sat around the comrades
telling stories of the past,
Of a war that he had fought in
and the deeds that he had done
In his exploits with his buddies;
they were heroes, everyone.
And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors,
his tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened,
for they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
for John has passed away
And the world's a little poorer,
for a soldier died today.
No he won't be mourned by many,
just his children and his wife,
For he lived an ordinary
very quiet sort of life,
He held a job and raised a family,
quietly going on his way;
And the world won't note his passing;
'tho a soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing
and proclaim that they were great,
Papers tell of their life stories
from the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier
goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
to the welfare of our land
Some jerk who breaks his promise
and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
who in times of war and strife
Goes off to serve his Country
and offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
and the style in which he lives
Are sometimes disproportionate
to the services he gives,
While the ordinary soldier,
who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal,
and perhaps a pension small.
It's so easy to forget them,
for it was so long ago
That our John's, Pat's, and Eddie's
went to battle, but we know
It was not the politicians,
with their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
that our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger
with your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out
with his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a soldier
who has sworn to defend
His home, his kin, and country,
and would fight until the end?
He was just a common soldier
and his ranks are growing thin
But his presence should remind us,
we may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
then we find the soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
that the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor
while he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
at the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
in the paper that might say:
OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
FOR A SOLDIER DIED TODAY.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- FOREVER FRIENDS.
The friends on whom we call today with favours to bestow, are nowhere near the final count of all the friends we know. For there were many others, who went to foreign shores to bring peace and hope to people they did not even know. Most of them came back home to touch a loved one's hand But to this day some still lie in far off distant lands. But we will not forget them as they are still our friends, because to us A friendship is a song that never ends. They did their bit for Irelands sake For God and world peace.
Written by; Eddie Robinson (Post 20 IUNVA) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Remembered that they were good people and they voluntered to do something honourable They left their families and stood in the doorways of the oppressed and said to the oppressors and the beligerents - "You will do no harm here. Not today, not on our watch". I for one will always remember them (Armn Michael Whelan) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE FALLEN SOLDIER In the midst of hate and anger, soldiers strive to maintain peace, and often ask the burning question, "Will this conflicy ever cease ?" Will I ever make a difference, will my efforts change a life ?" "Will there always be injustice, hate and anger, war and strife ?"
Hatred fuelled an evil plan and so an ugly war began. Valient men and women died, grieving loved ones mourned and cried. In a country torn by war, a soldier showed what he stood for. He lived his life as he believed, reaching out to those in need.
In a war torn ravaged land, he saw the pain and took a stand. He showed the world what love could do and changed the lives of those he knew This brave young man was killed one day, in a country far away. The fallen soldier fights no more, but loved ones know what he stood for.
They know the difference that he made, the deep felt message that he conveyed. Those who loved, and knew him well, have heroic tales to tell. The fallen soldier now is gone, but his words and deeds still live on. Let us pray that peace will be, the fallen soldiers legacy.
Written by Dorothy Schuler in memory of Canadian soldiers killed in a friendly fire incident in Iraq. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
FOR PEACE THIS PIECE OF YOU IS ENDED (For all the Irish peacekeepers)
For this moment Like other souls The world and I are splendid For peace, this piece of you is ended So tell them of me Whose love for you was endless You, who are going home without me Tell Ireland how death took me That I kept the faith Her honoured state And though my loved ones cried Remembered, then, these sacrifices When my country takes its place again And yours and mine Of Irish blood on foreign soil Saved the world again If only for that moment, then
Michael Whelan 18 July 2009
YOUR UNIFORM
Your uniform hangs still, on the wardrobe door Boots resting smartly on the bedroom floor Facing me at the end of our bed Waiting for you, but you are dead At night, I feel you standing there Through silhouette from moonlight glare It both comforts me and makes me cry As I ask God for answers, why you died And in the morn your children look for reasons Why their Daddy isn’t there, sleeping I tell them you are now in heaven, working Still a soldier, but now an Angel Doing your duty in Gods army Watching over us from clouds above Protecting us with your love And when one day Jesus calls us home in faith Their Daddy will greet us at Heaven’s Gate
Author: Michael J. Whelan - 2009
CRESCENT MOONS
Crescent moons remind me Places, in my memory Moments, when I was young I held a gun A peacekeeping soldier In South Lebanon One of many, green Irish bits in blue Sent from home Adventurers true First timers, innocent Began as boys Finished as men Grown, came home Hard to fit in Adventures never shown Still a boy, today Lebanon and my home Exist together in my heart Under Crescent Moons
Michael Whelan 29 March 2009 Edited: 07 June 09 REMEMBER YOUR SOLDIERS, YOUR IRELAND
Born, when you were born Reborn, when you were reborn I am of you and we are one In your sovereignty, your sovereign sons Remember my mothers, each borne of you Their sacrifice of sons, of daughters In service too
Many are resting, in your heart Your soul That mantle, remember When all is said and done Still it will be known I stood by you, loyal Through your dishonour Neglect, enfeeblement My organs, my elements My flesh, your flesh My blood, your blood In green, over the sea The land, the sky In foreign fields Safe is your integrity My love for you
Remember that blood spilled That sweat, that toil Freely given, remember it now Your soldiers (Oglaigh na hEireann) Your army, your heart Unknown to you It pulsates, eagerly awaits It serves, for today Your soldiers are still you O’ Ireland
Michael Whelan 21 March 2009 Edited: 07 June 09
RETURN TO LOVES
A distant war, look Embattled, cautiously A soldier peers over a parapet In a photograph history book Observing an enemy’s immediate threat To life and limb Made by governments Not by him
His posture still In all that grime Portrays his tension After all this time His enemy approaches We cannot see The soldier Decides to fight Not flee
He fights for his friends In this coming battle Soon to lay about him On history’s mantle No more for ideals Obscured That nationalism Blurred
Tired He fights He wants to live Go home Return to loves Denounce wars But, scarred landscapes of memories, shaped Make peaceful futures funery draped For sons of photographed battles desire Wondering if gloried soldiers survive
Michael Whelan 27 March 2009 Edited: 07 June 09 |
