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WELCOME TO THE LONG GREY LINE!!!!
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THE CORPS! THE CORPS! THE CORPS!
The Corps, bareheaded, salute it, with eyes up, thanking our God. That we of the Corps are treading, where they of the Corps have trod. They are here in ghostly assemblage. The men of the Corps long dead. And our hearts are standing attention, while we wait for their passing tread. We sons of today, we salute you. You sons of an earlier day; We follow, close order, behind you, where you have pointed the way; The long gray line of us stretches, thro' the years of a century told And the last man feels to his marrow, the grip of your far off hold. Grip hands with us now though we see not, grip hands with us strengthen our hearts. As the long line stiffens and straightens with the thrill that your presence imparts. Grips hands tho' it be from the shadows. While we swear, as you did of yore. Or living, or dying, to honor, the Corps, and the Corps, and the Corps.
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