Our Patriot Sons

A Tribute to the 2-8 Cav. 1st Cavalry Division, Ironhorse Brigade

by Jennifer Oakley

My son dreamed of being a hero:
shiny medals pinned on his chest.
How bravely he’d stand as the “Law of the Land,”
capture “bad guys”, and make our town safe for the rest.

He read great-big books (when he was just eight)
about wars, and the price that was paid:
learning battles defended, how peace was extended,
that freedom was worth every sacrifice made.

And so, my boy planned for his future,
To walk where the Brave Ones had gone.
He heard family stories of hardships and glories.
His Patriot’s heart grew devoted and strong.

At eleven, he joined Naval Sea Cadets,
learning discipline, honor, and more:
routine parade drills, navigational skills
‘board the Gray Wolf - off Michigan’s shore.

Then my Sailor became a “Land Lubber”,
thinking tanks and big guns more his style.
So he studied and grew, and became the boy who
could cite every past Infantry’s trial.

And while History’s victories and it’s defeats
were his major high-school obsession,
a bright shining career ended his Senior year
with sports honors now in his possession.

From the Line of Defense - in the lights at Rhodes Field,
to the Front-Lines just north of Baghdad,
he trained hard for a year and then faced every fear,
proudly giving the Army the best that he had.

As he lived through his first year of battle,
he was blessed with the closest of friends.
"Band of Brothers" they were, with a loyalty sure
as their skills to protect and defend.


Times came when, dazed, tired, and wounded,
Brothers battled ‘til victory came!
Side by side, Brutal Days! ... losing friends in the fray.
They birthed peace - bought in Freedom’s good name.

You see, winning the battle wasn’t their only task.
They were there to win hearts and minds,
so the folks of Iraq could stand up and take back
their homes, their country, their kind!

Our men taught by example, they held evil at bay,
til the people saw hope was at hand.
Trust grew as their men stood in courage again
to reclaim and rebuild their own land.

Since that day when my son first shipped off to war,
Band of Brothers stands several men less.
These won’t be forgotten! May we think of them often,
as peace now returns to streets once filled with stress.

And to mothers of sons who came home before mine,
Striped and Starred with our Nation’s regret:
We resolve that our days will be lived out in ways
that bring hope, and give life, and might honor our debt.

Because, here in this country, the peace that we’ve had
and the freedoms we own don’t come cheap!
May we never take lightly the gift of these Brave Ones!
As they return home, may our Thanks run Deep!

If your son dreams of being a hero,
changing Evil’s course his obligation,
know he walks in the plan God designed for a man.
And be proud! May his strong heart inspire this Nation!