We customarily meet at the Post at 7:00pm
on the 2nd Monday of  each month

If you're traveling, it's best to confirm the meeting in advance.

Sons of the American Legion
Department of Maine

 * eVetRecs: *
How to request Copies of  Military Personnel Records

Maine Bureau of Veteran's Services

Togus Veterans Administration Medical Center

Department of Maine American Legion

In accordance with section 1084 of the Fiscal Year 1998 National Defense Authorization Act, the Secretary of   Defense approved awarding Cold War Recognition Certificates to all members of the armed forces and qualified federal government civilian personnel who faithfully and honorably served the United States anytime during the Cold War era, which is defined as Sept. 2, 1945 to Dec. 26, 1991. (click title for link)

American Legion National Headquarters
 

American Legion Auxiliary National Headquarters
 

Maine High Adventure
Boy Scouts of Maine
Pine Tree Council

A Legionnaire's Vision
 verse by Robert 'Bob' Smith,
       written in 1931

Today I felt so lonely,
Yet I wanted to be alone,
As I wandered to the temple
Called our little Legion Home.

Dedicated to “God and country,”
Could a better motto be?
For a man without a country
Is like a leaf without a tree.

Perhaps you may call us dreamers;
Yet, like the seers of old,
We plainly saw the future
And at last we reached the goal.

I could tell you many a story,
Of sorrow, heartache, and. pain,
But at last we have a building
For the boys who went from Maine.

I halt and gaze upon it
As it stands there, white and trim;
The old pine tree, our sentry,
Whispers: “All is well within.

As I slowly cross the threshold
That room to me is grand;
For ‘tis not the work of masters
But of my Comrades’ hand.

As I sit here by the fireside,
My thoughts drift back to when
We started on the Buxton side,
A band of twenty man.

It was in the month of June,
In Nineteen Twenty-two,
We gathered at the Red Men’s Hall
And planned what we would do.

We started at the sunset
And broke up just at dawn,
But when we left that morning
Our little Post was born.

Men who stood at Chateau Thierry
And helped turn the German tide;
St. Mihiel and Belleau Wood
Again their mettle tried.

Hollis, Buxton, Dayton,
Standing side by side,
Like the rest of old New England,
Went over there to die.

Others in the Navy,
Had surely served their time
Back and Forth across the sea,
Dodging German mines. 

Others, up at Devens,
Waiting to go to France,
Shut in there with the Flu,
Didn’t have a gamblers chance.

Some pegged it off alone
To do their little bit,
With men from forty-seven other states
To give the Germans fits,

How we gathered round the box stove
And told unearthly lies;
The Army and the Navy
Each trying for the prize.

When the sailors told the story
Of taking us across
The army quickly told them
They were a total loss.

The navy same back at the army,
Didn't we use you nice?;
Yes you did, you Blue-clad loafers,
you gave us all your Lice.”

 “When we went on at Hoboken
For the army, what a crack,
A gang of wall—eyed sailors
Stole the packs from off our backs.”

 “Do you remember, up in Paris
When we walked out with Marie
One of Butler’s half-breed sailors
Would pop out behind a tree?"

“With a, ’You can't stand there soldier,
"Button up your coat,
If you say those words in here Marines,
We’ll ram them down your throat.“

How cheery and how cozy
this little room did seem
'Till at last I got so dozy
I fell into a dream.

I heard a bugle playing,
Soft and mellow was it’s note
Like a lark out in the meadow
With its silv'ry fluted throat.

Nearer, nearer, came the music
Floating softly on the air;
In my dream I sensed the difference,
The bugler had no earthly care.

Suddenly the music ceased;
I glanced up from my chair;
Standing there before me
Were four true Legionnaires.

I rose to gladly greet them
This little Legion host,
For once they were my buddies
And members of our Post.

On their shoulders the Legion Motto
Was written in letters bold
On their tunics was a poppy
And their belts were trimmed with gold.

We five sat down together
And talked of days of old;
Told the stories of the Legion
That never will grow old.

I thought as I looked upon them
“How freely Lid they give
For home , for God, and country
That you and I might live.”

May thirty, as we crossed the river
Behind the Saco vets,
We were thinking of you, buddies,
For the Legion never forgets.

At last my dream is over,
The shadows around me fall;
softly close the doors
And, in silence, leave the hall.

As I travel down the roadway
with the sinking of the sun
And look back at the doorway
Four voices say, ^"Well done,”

One request of you, my buddies,
When my light has flickered out- -;
Will you draw my chair up to your fire
And leave your latchstring oue?^"