Happy Birthday!

I will make this one short and sweet. I have been given the honor of wishing the United States Marine Corps a Happy Birthday from the Asylum. Today marks the 230th anniversary of the birth of one of the most important, most honored, and most storied branches of the United States military.

Marines and retired Marines (No one ever leaves the Corps; you are a Marine for life.) I hope are enjoying this honored day. I hope they are recounting their days in the service, laughing about the rare fun times they had, and raising a toast to all those comrades lost in the crucible of war.

This nation thanks you for your service and sacrifice. May you have 230 more years of unending service to this nation.


From the Halls of MontezumaTo the Shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title of
United States Marine.

Our flag's unfurled to every breeze
From dawn to setting sun;
We have fought in ev'ry clime and place
Where we could take a gun;
In the snow of far-off Northern lands
And in sunny tropic scenes;

You will find us always on the job--The United States Marines.

Here's health to you and to our Corps
Which we are proud to serve
In many a strife we've fought for life
And never lost our nerve;
If the Army and the Navy
Ever look on Heaven's scenes;
They will find the streets are guarded By United States Marines.

SEMPER FI

The Bunny ;)

ADDENDUM: No, I did not post a mistake above, but our "illustrious leader" reminded me of another anniversary today, and one that many more people may remember. (It is not my fault I have the Marine Corps birthday marked on my calender, and I was biting at the bit to come home and honor them. LOL)

Thomas reminded me that on this day in 1975 a very famous ship sank in Lake Superior. Her name? The SS Edmund Fitzgerald. In honor of this anniversary, below is a link to the subject under Wikipedia, and the lyrics to the song by Gordon Lightfoot that made this ship truly famous.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edmund_Fitzgerald


The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!