In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders Fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To... >Full Story
New Authority for a Marine
"Who am I to counsel and advise 600 men?" I asked myself.... >more
The Man Behind the Weapon
A giant of a man weighing over 300 pounds, Carl Swaboda of... >more
What Do You Fear?
What do you fear, and why? Is it holding you back from realizing your full potential?
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