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​I was five-years-old plus two months when the Japanese bombed our Naval base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, which placed some of my most formative years in some of the darkest days of the Second World War.

The casualty lists were made public as were the results of every major battle, win lose or draw and America stayed in touch with what was going on in Iwo Jima or Normandy with scratchy live overseas reports broadcast by on the scene correspondents embedded with the troops who were fighting the battles.

The home front was scrambling, tooling up to produce the planes, tanks and guns our troops would need to win a war we were ill-prepared to enter, with two major theaters of battle, one in Europe and one in Asia.

As the draft and enlistments took their toll on manpower from the labor force, mothers and housewives traded their aprons for coveralls and manned the assembly lines at munitions plants and shipyards.

Scrap metal, tin cans, used nylon stockings, old newspapers and even used cooking grease were saved and collected to play some part in the war effort.

Everybody was involved in one-way or another; even kids went around the neighborhoods gathering anything that could be used to help fight the war.

Brokenhearted mothers who received letters about a son lost in battle in some far away place bore a kind of grief only they could understand, hung a gold star in the window and got back to being a part of the war effort.

I'll never forget D-Day, my mother got me up early and we went to our church, which was packed to the rafters with people who had come to church to pray for the fathers and sons who at that moment were storming the beaches of Normandy under heavy machine gun and artillery fire.

But, on they came, wave after wave, fighting their way inch by bloody inch and at the end of the longest day, ten thousand allied troops lay dead, a feat of bravery and patriotism that has rarely been equaled, that broke the back of Hitler's best and began the march to Berlin and the end of the war in Europe.

There was Iwo Jima, Guadalcanal, Tarawa, MacArthur's epic return to the Philippines, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, so many battles, so much American blood, so much pain, so much sacrifice, so much courage and dedication.

So on this day which has been set aside to honor our fallen heroes, I want to take the opportunity to restate something I've said many times and believe with all my heart.

Only two things protect America:

The grace of Almighty God and the United States Military.

I salute you, Gold Star Mothers and Fathers. America grieves with you.

I salute the sons and daughters who will forever have a vacant seat at the dinner table and an empty spot in your hearts.

I salute you, wives and husbands whose sacrifice only you can feel the depths of.

For every tombstone in Arlington, every marker in Flanders Field, every grave in America that will have a flag placed on it today to all the places that mark the final resting place of a hero, from America's fight for independence, the Civil War, the First World War, the Second World War, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, and also the policemen and firemen who have lost their lives in the line of duty and the loves ones who will forever live with the pain of sacrifice.

I humbly, gratefully and proudly salute you.

Without you there would be no America.

We owe you an unpayable debt of gratitude.

Today is the day, let Old Glory fly high over the land of the free and the home of the brave, over the graves of those on whose shoulder liberty stands.

Pray for our troops and the peace of Jerusalem.

What do you think?

God Bless America

Charlie Daniels