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"We Stand Alone Together."

“The paratroopers were all volunteer. The elite of the Army. If you're going to combat, you want to fight with the best.” ― William Guarnere

If you know me, you probably realize that I have an infatuation with anything Airborne related during WWII. These kids jumped out of perfectly good planes and landed behind enemy lines while anti-aircraft was shooting at them. That takes some guts, man.



I stayed home and watched the first few episodes of Band of Brothers when my sister went to see Cinderella in theaters. Do I have a problem? Yeah, probably. =) 

"We Should Thank God That Such Men Lived."

I've had the honor to meet so many wonderful WWII veterans! I put together this video to pay tribute to them. 


Thank you to all our veterans! Your service is not forgotten.


-Emily

"You Would Not Recognize Me."

You would not recognize me
if you were to see me in the street.
I have changed, not merely outwardly,
but inwardly my soul is being molded.
I am someone different.
Forgive me, but please, don’t forget me.
I was insolent in my youth.
Brash, wild, defiant.



So I must ask, why did you still love me?
The world held me captive.
It fastened my feet
with ropes forged from my own desires.
I was dragged down into cold waters
and left to suffocate.

You will never hear these words.
We will never see each other again.
I have vanished from that world,
that world we grew up in,
that world we loved in.
The ropes have been severed from my feet.
The starry heavens, so immense in their grandeur,
call to me, an irresistible invitation.

You think me foolish, no doubt.
What are these words but an incoherent plea
that I long for you to hear?
But I know you won’t.
A soldier knows when it's his time.
It’s a feeling,
that festers in the mind and heart.

I see the world for what it is.
I see my sins in their mangled shapes.
Yes, I want to go back and rewrite it all.
But I can’t.
I see my life before me,
and those I left behind.
My heart wages a war inside my chest.
My breath quickens and my blood turns cold.
And I know.

From the temporal haven of the foxhole,
I see the stars erased by the waking dawn.
They wink at me.
They say goodbye.
Someone shifts beside me and moans,
lost in a forest of haunted dreams.
The barrel of my gun is cool against my hands,
as a machine gun kills the morning calm.
Plumes of smoke rise like incense into the sky,
and turn into hands of death, reaching for its victims.

I won’t come home.
Please, don’t expect me to.
But don’t mourn over the boy
whose soul once wandered in vice.
I’m not that boy any longer.
I falter and I fail,
but now I believe and I hope
for what lies behind the starry skies.
Dear Vi, you’ll never know these words.
But I pray you’ll know them
in your own soul.

By: Emily Ann Putzke