I watched the flag pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze;
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
It fluttered in the breeze;
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform,
So young, so tall, so proud;
With hair cut square and eyes alert,
He'd stand out in any crowd.
So young, so tall, so proud;
With hair cut square and eyes alert,
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought... how many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down
How many died at sea
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves
No, Freedom is not Free.
How many died at sea
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves
No, Freedom is not Free.
I heard the sound of Taps one night,
When everything was still;
I listened to the bugler play,
And felt a sudden chill;
When everything was still;
I listened to the bugler play,
And felt a sudden chill;
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend;
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend;
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands.
With interrupted lives.
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands.
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves inArlington .
No. Freedom is not Free!
At the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in
No. Freedom is not Free!
©Copyright 1981 by Kelly Strong
Reprinted with permission from the author
Biography: Commander, Unites States Coast Guard
This poem is important to Kelly because he wrote it as a high school senior (JROTC cadet) at When he finds others trying to take credit for the authorship of the poem, Kelly sees it as a dishonor to the man who inspired the poem, his Dad.
Kelly is now an active duty Coast Guard pilot living in
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