Can't these ignorant morons even get one fact right? The disdain these people have for the military always comes through loud and clear when ever they report anything about it! They wouldn't have been this careless with the facts regarding Teddy!

Clearly the writer was channeling the average extreme leftist crypto-commies who have now hijacked the Democrat party of JFK...

REVILE is the very thing they have been doing to the military everyday since they fell into the clutches of the anti-American, anti-miltary liberal arts professors.

Obama thinks winning 52.7% of the vote gave him a mandate to turn America into a Euro-trash socialist state.  

Here is what my favorite novelist, James Jones, wrote about Taps in his novel, "From Here To Eternity":

He looked at his watch and as the second hand touched the top stepped up and raised the bugle to the megaphone, and the nervousness dropped from him like a discarded blouse, and he was suddenly alone, gone away from the rest of them.

The first note was clear and absolutely certain. There was no question or stumbling in this bugle. It swept across the quadrangle positively, held just a fraction longer than most buglers hold it. Held long like the length of time, stretching away from weary day to weary day. Held long like thirty years. The second note was short, almost too abrupt. Cut short and soon gone, like the minutes with a whore. Short like a ten minute break is short. And then the last note of the first phrase rose triumphantly from the slightly broken rhythm, triumphantly high on an untouchable level of pride above the humiliations, the degradations.

He played it all that way, with a paused then hurried rhythm that no metronome could follow. There was no placid regimented tempo to Taps. The notes rose high in the air and hung above the quadrangle. They vibrated there, caressingly, filled with an infinite sadness, an endless patience, a pointless pride, the requiem and epitaph of the common soldier, who smelled like a common soldier, as a woman had once told him. They hovered like halos over the heads of sleeping men in the darkened barracks, turning all the grossness to the beauty that is the beauty of sympathy and understanding. Here we are, they said, you made us, now see us, dont close your eyes and shudder at it; this beauty, and this sorrow, of things as they are. This is the true song, the song of the ruck, not of battle heroes; the song of the Stockade prisoners itchily stinking sweating under coats of grey rock dust; the song of the mucky KPs, of the men without women who collect the rags of the officers' wives, who come to scour the Officer's Club--after the parties are over. This is the song of the scum, the Aqua-Velva drinkers, the shamelessness who greedily drain the half filled glasses, some of them lipstick smeared, that the partyers can afford to leave unfinished.

This is the song of the men who have no place, played by a man who has never had a place, and can therefore play it. Listen to it. You know this song, remember? This is the song you close your ears to every night, so you can sleep. This is the song you drink five martinis every evening not to hear. This is the song of the Great Loneliness, that creeps in the desert wind and dehydrates the soul. This is the song you'll listen to on the day you die. When you lay there in bed and sweat it out, you know that all the doctors and nurses and weeping friends don't mean a thing and cant help you any, cant save you one small bitter taste of it, because you are the one thats dying and not them; when you wait for it to come and know the sleep will not evade it and martinis will not put it off and conversation will not circumvent it and hobbies will not help you to escape it; then you will hear this song and remembering, recognize it. This song is Reality. Remember? Surely you remember?

It was that way long before I enlisted, and remains long after I have retired.

I cannot hear Taps without crying, be it done by Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts, on TV or worse, the echoing of it from the nearby military installation.

A 10 second "fact check" would have prevented the glaring error.  If the reporter and media outlet gets such a small detail messed-up, they lack credibility for the larger article.  Attention to the details, because they do count.

You fail in small tasks of no consequence, how can I trust you to tackle larger ones with a consequence?

Call me patriotic, call me sentimental, call me an AMERICAN.

 Taps

Fading light dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar drawing nigh -- Falls the night.

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Then good night, peaceful night,
Till the light of the dawn shineth bright;
God is near, do not fear -- Friend, good night.

In memory of all those who died in the service of our beloved country and to all those murdered in Fort Hood.

There's some conflicting information on this thread.  While "Reveille" is played for the raising of the flag on Army posts, the only bugle call played on Navy and Marine Bases for the raising of The National Colors is "To The Color". 

Unfortunately for the AP, revile is an actual word (with a meaning completely different than the one intended) and using spellchecker as the editor/fact-checker allows blatant mistakes to go through.  Just a few too many cutbacks in your editorial and fact-checking depts., AP?