They answered the call: “Freedom for all!”
And the price of freedom? It’s written on the wall.
‘Tis a righteous thing to bow one’s head,
In tribute to our veteran dead.
And forget not the wounded, who will never heal,
Who left their eyes, and limbs, on the battlefield.
When someone yelled, “MEDIC”, in the middle of hell,
A corpsman came running, through bullets and shells.
He controlled the bleeding. He eased the pain,
Then ran to help another...sometimes in vain.
But not all wounds are visible, like P.T.S.S.,
That’s why some, who return, are very depressed.
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