Support our Troops and Country
Pierre "Yellow Sky" Nantell has gotten a few more pictures from his son Trevor, who is stationed in the "Sand Box". Here they are. Hey Trev, we are holding a place in the club for you when you get home and fire up that Yamaha that you dad is keeping polished up!
One of our members here in the Inland Empire chapter, Pierre Nantell and his lovely wife Sally have a son
in Iraq and he has sent a picture home to mom & dad and they have sent it to me. Pierre, himself a Viet Nam
Vet (yes, it was on OUR side) also told me that one of his other sons has quit a good paying job to follow
in his big brother footsteps. I know that Sally is scared, like all mothers are when their boys go off to keep
things safe in the world, but I also know that she must be as proud of them as she can be. Here is a picture
That Trevor sent. He and soon his brother, Pierre Jr. are in the Army. Let's all give him a big Geezer Salute!
Click on the picture for a bigger one.
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The left pic is Sgt. Major Troy "Turbo" Couron at his gun station. I had to kind of high light this picture
so he could be seen a little better. Remember, these people have better things to do than make sure the picture
will turn out properly! The picture on the right says many things, without me adding anything to it, except thank
you for your service and to your families, our hearts and prayers are with you.
(click on the pictures for a larger size)
WELCOME HOME TROY "TURBO" COURON!!
I know it's not much on a site like this, but THANK YOU for a job well done, to you and your Marines. It must be nice to be able to get onto that Harley and ride down a road without having to worry about IED's. I know you had your bike painted and tuned up while you were away, defending democracy, so I hope the CHP will understand when you blow their doors off as you pass by at 100 mph!
Again WELCOME HOME AND WELL DONE MARINES!
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Here is a little news item sent to me by Spooky, from the Choir Boys.
Don't you just love those Special Forces guys.
December 9, 2005 (CNN)
While interviewing an anonymous US Special Forces soldier on his sniper skills, a Reuters News agent asked the soldier what he felt when shooting members of Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. The soldier shrugged and replied, "Recoil."
I put this on the Menu page, but incase you missed it, here it is again
A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS POEM
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.
Sleep without fear as you turn out your lights."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of this line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one has asked or begged or implored me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
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 some money, 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.
AMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!
