11-08-2008, 09:49 AM
I'd like to say until we meet again to my Blitz friends... My absence has been due to the frantic pace of life for me... It will be 376 days since my return from Iraq... More rank, more responsiblity, more work, less and less time... the drum beat of war never far from my ears...
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
- Shakespeare's Henry V, Act III, 1599
It was a beautiful day at Fort Hood, Texas.. A slight breeze... blue sky... a brigade formation online stands tall on the parade field...
Soldiers doing what Soldiers have done for countless centuries...
At the edge of the field as the salute battery cannonades... the band plays... flags and guidons snap in the breeze...
a Chaplain prays... Bugles command... Formations snap to attention... Soldiers salute... the Anthem calls... Colors cased for the journey forward... Generals speak... formations wheel... to Pass and Review
Today we move forward to the sound of the guns... hard people for a tough job... a long and dangerous road before us... we pass from light to dark... from order to chaos... with dreams of home and hearth... not knowing what the fates intend...
Everybody play nice with each other... I expect to see all of you old timers and newbies back when I return...
Jim
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
- Shakespeare's Henry V, Act III, 1599
It was a beautiful day at Fort Hood, Texas.. A slight breeze... blue sky... a brigade formation online stands tall on the parade field...
Soldiers doing what Soldiers have done for countless centuries...
At the edge of the field as the salute battery cannonades... the band plays... flags and guidons snap in the breeze...
a Chaplain prays... Bugles command... Formations snap to attention... Soldiers salute... the Anthem calls... Colors cased for the journey forward... Generals speak... formations wheel... to Pass and Review
Today we move forward to the sound of the guns... hard people for a tough job... a long and dangerous road before us... we pass from light to dark... from order to chaos... with dreams of home and hearth... not knowing what the fates intend...
Everybody play nice with each other... I expect to see all of you old timers and newbies back when I return...
Jim