SwiftVets.com

[3rd gen Navy]

I am third generation USN. No offense to the other branches, by why did Kerry have to come from "my" service?

As much as possible for one who did not have to endure them, I have lived with the stain of his words for as long as I could comprehend them and what they did to my father and grandfather, and those who served with them...I thought of Kerry when I was SERES school, along with the "boots" echoing in my head, I imagined what it must be like to have to listen to one of your own betray everything you held dear...

WE ARE BATTLING FOR THE HONOR OF GENERATIONS and the SOUL OF A NATION. HEAL THE WOUND! EXPOSE THE TRAITOR! NEVER FORGET! NEVER FORGIVE! NEVER RELAX UNTIL THE THREAT IS NEUTRALIZED!

EACH ONE TEACH ONE! CONTINUE TO GET THE WORD OUT! IT's NEVER ENOUGH! Although I have left the service (perhaps only temporarily, I miss it more EVERY day...) I try every day to right the travesty Kerry is perpetrating upon the American People.

I am currently a college student and an EMT. EVERY day on campus, I drive to campus, displaying my "STOP Hanoi John bumpersticker above my POW/MIA sticker, I wear my Navy Ballcap,and my Veterans Against Kerry lapel pin... I am purchasing/ donating several copies of UFC to my school and local Public Libraries... We are the Sons of Liberty, Nathaniel Hale, Patrick Henry...Stay the course and NEVER LET KERRY OUT OF THE CROSSHAIRS for one even ONE instant!

Pardon me while I wipe the froth from my chin...Kerry's latest has me frothing at the mouth....

Admin note: Please don't use all caps in topics. Thanks
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Warm Regards,
Sean G. Smith,
RN, BSN, EMT-B, U.S. Navy, 1994 - 2003.
BS Biology, Business Administration, Nursing
The Deal with Life: Make decisions based on what you might gain, not on what you may lose.
!!!!!! LET THE WILD RUMPUS BEGIN !!!!!!

[Navy_Navy_Navy]

Right on 3rd Gen Navy - train your relief!

Welcome aboard!
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~ Echo Juliet ~
Altering course to starboard - On Fire, Keep Clear
Navy woman, Navy wife, Navy mother

[ThaLeena]

Well you are the PERFECT person to buy some "Sink Kerry Swiftly" bumperstickers, with your placement and access. Check out the thread on this page. You could make an impact on your campus!!!

[FF1047]

I don't mean to step on a 3rd generation Navy man ...

but his actions have inspired this 4th generation Navy man to wear my opposition to Kerry on my sleeve for all to see ...

(Since Kerry was and is a Navy problem its our duty to lead the other services veterans in the fight against him ...)
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JJC
USNA class of 1980

[stealthy]

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American Conservative

[jataylor11]

I love this picture.

[Navy wife]

Where did you get this great picture? Can we copy it?

[Jack Mclaughlin]

You should be marketing that picture stealthy. I`ll take 50 of them, no matter the price.

[3rd gen Navy]

CARRION forms a large portion of a shark's diet....
_________________
Warm Regards,
Sean G. Smith,
RN, BSN, EMT-B, U.S. Navy, 1994 - 2003.
BS Biology, Business Administration, Nursing
The Deal with Life: Make decisions based on what you might gain, not on what you may lose.
!!!!!! LET THE WILD RUMPUS BEGIN !!!!!!

[little sparrow]

USN Third Generation,

I was so inspired by your words I used some of them in a signature line when I posted the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere on another website. You made my day when I read your post earlier in the day. You and Paul Revere came to mind when I came under attack from the left. Your words and Longfellows were the perfect answer. Thank you...

LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower, as a signal light, --
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison-bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the somber rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade, --
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay, --
A line of black, that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now gazed on the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry-tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and somber and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns!

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet:
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the ****,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When be came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read,
How the British regulars fired and fled, --
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm, --
A cry of defiance and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beat of that steed,
And the midnight-message of Paul Revere.


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1860.



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We are battling for the Honor of Generations and the Soul of a Nation. Heal the wound! Expose the traitor! Never Forget! ~ Third Generation USN ~
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~It is a dangerous worldview to call into question the integrity and seek to silence the voices of men that took torture for years to keep faith with these United States and their brothers in the field in time of war.~ LS