Chris' Retirement Ceremony

4 Generations of Lamoureux Boys/Men

This summer my father in law (Chris) retired from serving as a Colonel in the US Army. His retirement ceremony was a really neat experience. There was a slide show of Chris throughout his life that was really cool. It was fun to see childhood pictures of him. I couldn't believe how much Mike and Gilbert (especially Gil) look like Chris! It was such a beautiful ceremony and I am glad we were able to be there for it.

Also during the ceremony the color guard did a presentation of the flag and the following poem was read and I thought it very touching and wanted to share.

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 honored - 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 was there.

I led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn 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 on the streets of my country. And when it's 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 soldiers,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.

MY NAME IS OLD GLORY

Dear God - Long may I wave.