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Amvets Post 1983
Hamilton, Ohio

Iraq News

When the United States went to war in Iraq, many Butler County
natives were among the men and women rolling through Iraq. As the war
went on, a number came back on leave. Staff Sgt. Todd Barger had an
early Christmas with his family. Mark and Julie Hans, both in the
Army, came home to visit. Lt. Jeff McFarland showed his family in
Hamilton his newly awarded Bronze Star.

And Marlin Rockhold, 23, a Hamilton High graduate and Army private
first class, was buried with military honors in Hamilton after he was
killed by a sniper's bullet while directing traffic in Baghdad.

"My brother's legacy will live forever in our hearts," Derrick                                                                       
Rockhold said.

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                              

 


This page is for News and other articles for veterans.


A Holiday Poem - A Tribute

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 eyes 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 "Its really all right, 
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night".
 
"It's 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 'Pearl on a day in December,". 
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always
remembers." 
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam 
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 sister and brother 
who stand at the front against any and all, 
to ensure 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 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.
 



  

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