Over There With George M. Cohan
It occurred to me that it's never going to be over, over there. We're never coming back. We have more than 250,000 volunteer soldiers, sailors and airmen scattered (too thin) all over the globe.PACIFIC PALISADES, Calif. — This prosperous enclave on the cliff overlooking Santa Monica Bay has many virtues, and one of the big ones is a great hometown Fourth of July parade.
For more than three hours, folks sit on the curbs or on lawn chairs and watch America go by. Bands and Boy Scouts, firemen and bagpipers, veterans from half a dozen wars, politicians, beginning with the mayor of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa, and more flags than you can count, most of them probably made in China. There was even a young man walking the streets passing out “Muslims for Peace” brochures. Sugar Ray Leonard was honorary mayor.You go away humming and drumming. And then I realized what I was happily humming: the song George M. Cohan wrote in 1917 as American troops headed for the latest and biggest outbreak of world war in Europe:“Over there, over there,“Send the word, send the word over there “That the Yanks are coming,“The Yanks are coming,“The drums rum-tumming© 2011 Universal Uclick
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