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01
Mar/2008

Old Glory
by DWCampo
“Old Glory” 

I am the flag of the United States of America.  My name is Old Glory. I fly atop the world’s tallest buildings. I stand watch in America’s halls of justice.  I fly majestically over great institutions of learning.  I stand guard with the greatest military power in the world.  Look up and see me!

 

I stand for peace – honor – truth and justice.  I stand for freedom.  I am confident – I am arrogant – I am proud.  When I am flown with my fellow banners, my head is a little higher – my colors a little truer – I bow to no one!  I am recognized all over the world.  I am worshipped – I am loved and I am feared.

 

I have fought in every battle of every war for more than 200 years:  Gettysburg, Shiloh, Appomattox, San Juan Hill, The trenches of France, the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome, the beaches of Normandy, Guam, Okinawa, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, in the Persian Gulf and a score of places long forgotten, by all but those who were there with me… I was there!

 

I love my Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines.  I followed them and watched over them.  They loved me.  I was on a small hill in Iwo Jima, I was dirty, Battle-worn and tired.  But my Solders cheered me!  And I was proud.

 

I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries that I have helped set free.  It does not hurt – for I am invincible.  I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my own country – and when it is by those whom I have served in battle with – it hurts.

 

But I shall overcome – for I am strong!  I have slipped the bonds of earth and from my vantage point on the moon, I stand watch over the uncharted new frontiers of space.

 

I have been a silent witness to all of America’s finest hours.  But my finest hour comes when I am torn in strips to be used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the field of battle – when I fly at half mast to honor my Soldiers, my Sailors, my Airmen, my Marines, and when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving mother, at the graveside of her fallen son or daughter – I am proud. 

 My name is “Old Glory” – long may I wave, dear God, long may I wave. 
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