A Tribute to our Flag

 

A Tribute to our Flag.  Submitted by Bob Thompson, Retired Military Veteran, Panama City, Florida The Flag of the United States of America   If you're interested, Elvis is singing "America The Beautiful" on this tribute, so have your speakers on. If this doesn't give you chills, you should pack up and move on to another country. I Am the Flag of the Of America    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 institutions of learning.  I stand guard with 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 saluted. I am loved - I am  revered. I am respected - and I am feared. I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of  Normandy. Guam, Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me. I'm presently in the mountains of Afganistan and the hot and dusty deserts of Iraq and wherever freedom is needed. I led my troops, I was dirty, battleworn and tired, But my soldiers  cheered me and I was proud. I have been burned, torn and trampled on the  streets of countries I have helped set free. It does not hurt for I am  invincible. I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled in the streets of my country. And when it's done by those Whom I've served in battle - it  hurts. But I shall overcome - for I am strong. I have slipped the  bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon. I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.  But my finest hours are yet to come.  When I am torn  into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the  battlefield, When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier, Or when I  lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,   I am proud.