TO ALL WHO SERVED

I watched the Standards marching passed. They fluttered in the breeze. A young soldier saluted them, And then he stood at ease. I looked at him in uniform So young, so tall, so proud. With hair cut short and eyes alert, He stood out in the crowd. I thought how many men like him Had fallen through the years. How many died on foreign soil, How many mothers' tears? How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, freedom isn't free. When a flag had draped a coffin, Of a comrade or a friend. I thought of all the children, Of the mothers and the wives. Of fathers, sons and husbands With interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard At the bottom of the sea. Of unmarked graves around the world No, freedom isn't free. Enjoy your freedom. Price Paid, for you and me.