Then his eye welled
a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget
to fight for our
rights back at home while we're gone.
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come
home, either standing or dead,
to know you remember we fought and we bled
is payment enough,
and with that we will trust
that we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
The experiences of one Patriot Guard Rider:
Matthew Medlicott, Waukegan, IL
Kevin Grieco & Nick Casey
Christopher
Bartkiewicz, Canton, IL
Leonard
Gulczynski, Carol Stream, IL
it is my
duty to my Country to love it
Anthony
Mihalo, Naperville, IL (2004)
Anthony
Mihalo, Naperville, IL (2008)
David
Badie, Rockford, IL
Robert
LeClair, Kankakee, IL
Mitchell
Young, Fayetteville, NC
Pruitt
Rainey, Burlington, NC
Jack
Otto, Racine, WI
Travis
Hunsberger, Nappanee, IN
Dawid
Pietrek, Bensenville, IL
Howard
Marshall, Lombard, IL
our
friend from Westboro
Blake
Evans, Rockford, IL
Christopher
Frost #2
Keith
Nurnberg #2
Robert
Ochsner, Beach Park, IL
Christopher
Frost, Waukesha, WI
Albert
Bitton, Rogers Park (Chicago), IL
Julianna
Gehant, Mendota, IL
David Schultz,
Blue Island, IL
Keith
Lloyd, Milwaukee, WI
Timothy
Hanson, Kenosha, WI
Jason
Lemke, West Allis, WI
Dariusz
Sadkowski, Mount Prospect, IL
DeWayne White, Country Club Hills, IL
Christian Skoglund, Racine, WI
16th PSYOPS Battalion, Fort Sheridan, IL
432nd CIVAFF Battalion,
Green Bay, WI
Jason Lee, Fruitport,
MI
Joe Vanek, Elmhurst,
IL
Ashley Seitsma, Dekalb, IL
Joshua Brennan, Madison, WI
Rachel Hugo, Monona,
WI
Dale DeVries, Elmhurst, IL
Nick Patterson, Rochester, IN
Greg Bowman, Princeton, IL
Keith
Nurnberg, Genoa City, WI
Randol Shelton, Schiller Park, IL
Derek Dobogai, Fond du Lac, WI
Phillip Brodnick, New Lenox, IL
Justin Penrod, Danville, IL
Andrew
Lancaster, Stockton, IL
Michael Wiltz, Downers Grove, IL
Matthew Zindars, Watertown, WI
Joshua Maginn, Kenosha, WI
Tom Bernardy, Zion,
IL
Eric Lill, Bridgeport (Chicago),
IL
Eric Palmer, Maize,
KS
Karen Clifton, Decatur, IL
Albert Hajduk, Libertyville, IL
Michael
Pittman, Davenport, IA
Robert Liggett, Urbana, IL
Ben Desilets, Elmwood,
IL
Daniel Courneya, Nashville, MI
David
Kirkpatrick, Upland, IN
Nicholas
Riehl, Shiocton, WI
Robert
Basham, Kenosha, WI
Oliver
Lambert, Gurnee, IL
Daniel Zizumbo, Elsdon (Chicago), IL
Louis Kim, Orland Park, IL
Kevin Landeck, Wheaton, IL
Matthew Grimm, Wisconsin
Rapids, WI
William Newgard and Christopher
Swanson
Arlington Heights and Lincolnwood (Chicago), IL
Jason Denfrund, Gurnee, IL
Evan Bixler, Racine, WI
Jack Valentine, Zion,
IL
Rhett Schiller, Burlington, WI
Edwardo Lopez,
Ryan Haupt, Franklin Park, IL
Jonathan Rojas, Hammond, IN
Aaron Seal gathering at the taging area, 100 photos
Aaron Seal flagline prior to the service, 105 photos
Aaron Seal waiting during the service, 45 photos
Allen Rioux, Zion, IL
Robert Paul of Skokie, IL
Jacob Ortiz of Camp Douglas, WI
Shaun Novak of Two Rivers, WI
Timothy Mackenzie of Elmhurst, IL
Adam Servais of Onalaska,
WI
Ryan Jopek of Merrill,
WI
Daniel Crabtree of Akron, OH
Jeffrey McLochlin,
Ryan Cummings,
Caleb Lufkin,
Shane Mahaffee,
Edward Davis, Waukegan, IL
Philip Martini,
Antoine McKinzie,
Nyle Yates of Grand
Ledge, MI
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep
in perfect contentment, or so it would seem.
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
and I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,
to the window that danced with a warm fire's light
then he sighed and he said "It's really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night"
"Its my duty to stand at the front of the line,
that separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at '
then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of '
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red white and blue... an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home,
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat,
I can carry the weight of killing another
or lay down my life with my sisters and brothers
who stand at the front against any and all,
to insure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no
fright
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled
a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget
To fight for our
rights back at home while we're gone.
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come
home, either standing or dead,
to know you remembered we fought and we bled
is payment enough,
and with that we will trust
that we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
© Poem Copyright December 7, 2000 by Michael Marks
Words & pics © Donald E. Russ
deruss at
msn dot com