Connecting the Troopers of Today with the Veterans of Yesterday.
I thought about a graveyard at the bottom of the sea, of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No freedom isn't free
I thought of all the children, of mothers and of wives, of fathers, sons and husbands, with interrupted lives.
I thought, how many men like him had fallen through the years, how many died on foreign soil; How many mothers tears
I looked at him in uniform so young, so tall, so proud. With hair out square and eyes alert. He'd stand out in any crowd.
How many pilots planes shot down. How many died at sea. How many foxholes were soldiers graves?
No freedom isn't free.