I am the fallen soldier, sailor, airman, and marine.

Remember me. I am the one that held the line.

Sometimes I volunteered.

Sometimes I went because I was told to go.

But when the nation called, I answered.

In order to serve, I left behind the family, friends, and freedom that so many

take for granted. Over time, I used different weapons. A sword, a musket, a bayonet, a rifle, a machine

gun. Often, I marched into battle on foot.

Other times, I rode to battle on horseback or in wagons, sometimes on trains.

Later, in tanks or jeeps or humvees.

In early wars, my ships were made of wood and powered by the wind. Later, they were

made of steel and powered by diesel fuel or the atom. I even took to the air and mastered the sky

in planes, helicopters, and jets. The machines of war evolved and changed with the times. But remember

that it was always me, the warrior, that had to fight our nation's enemies. I fought at Lexington

and Concord as our nation was born. I crossed the Delaware on Christmas Day in 1776. In the Civil War, I fought with my

brothers and against my brothers at Gettysburg and Shiloh and Bull Run. I learned that we must never

again divide. In World War I, I marched on the Marn and held the line at Bella Wood. The war

to end all wars, they called it. I just called it hell. In World War II, I fought everywhere,

the beaches of Normandy, the Battle of the Bulge, the hell of Guadalcanal. I stood against tyranny and kept darkness

from consuming the world. In Korea, I landed at Inchon and broke out of the chosen reservoir.

They called it the forgotten war, but I never forgot. In Vietnam, I fought in the May Kong Delta,

at Kaysan and Hamburger Hill. Some say my country wavered, but I did not waver ever. In the recent past, I have fought in Iraq and Afghanistan,

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