Happy Memorial Day

I'm not sure why everybody always says "Happy Memorial Day".  I always thought it was a time of somber reflection and remembrance.  But hey, in today's society, any reason for a day off & a barbeque is something to be happy about.  Course, another reason to be happy is because a whole lot of folks over a whole lot of years have fought & died to keep this country great.  I'm pretty sure that everyone, at one time or another, has met or knows somebody that has served in a combat role in this country.  The majority of those that you know, have known the men and women whose names are carved on all the memorials around this country.

Names.  Lots and lots of names.  Names of men, women, boys, uncles, fathers, friends, cousins.  People who had dreams and aspirations.  People that voluntarily or involuntarily, fought and died for the freedoms that we enjoy today.  When I hear somebody disparaging the military heroes, or this country, my gut tells me that I need to go "straighten" their way of thinking out.  But I also know that we live in the greatest country, in the greatest society on earth.  It's because of all those heroes that the uneducated, narrow-minded losers can say whatever they want to say.  It's also because of all those heroes that I can refer to them as uneducated, narrow-minded losers!

I've known several veterans in my lifetime, and I consider them all heroes.  Whether they went to war or not, they were willing.  I've never had the courage or will to do what each and every one of these people have done, and are currently doing.  I grew up with a hero.  And although, growing up under his tutelage, I never appreciated the fact that he was, indeed a hero, I made a point of calling him one, late one night, in the latter stages of his life.  His reaction to me was "don't call me a hero.  I'm no hero.  When mortars started falling around me, or we came under enemy fire, I could dig a three foot foxhole through solid asphalt with my bare hands.  The people that died over there.  The people that didn't get to come home.  Those guys were the heros."  This guy had ribbons from three combat campaigns, and he wasn't a hero?

He didn't die in combat.  In fact, the only injury he sustained was when a small piece of white-phosphorous burned it's way through the webbing of his hand.  He showed me the scar once.  He carried a small New Testament Bible in his shirt pocket.  It deflected a bullet meant for his heart.  We've still got the Bible, which still carries the scar from the bullet.  He fought in one of the bloodiest, deadliest campaigns in Marine Corps history, and lived to tell about it.  Only, he never really talked about it.  That's the way he was.  Just do the job & on to the next one.  I was always afraid to ask too many questions growing up.  I wish I had asked more.

Although he didn't die in combat, a small piece of him did.  Even as an old man, when I'd ask the questions, his eyes would drift back & you could tell he was there.  You could tell it hurt him to talk about it.  To remember.  Remember not only the war and the fighting, and the incessant cold, and the miserable conditions.  But remember the faces too.  The faces of friends.  Friends who were hurt, or killed.  Friends who never got to come back & marry the love of their life.  Or father 6 thankful kids.

On this memorial day, I want to say thank you to all of the hero's, down through the history pages of the United States.  Thank you to every one of them that put on a uniform, only to have to pay the ultimate sacrifice.  Without every one of them, this country could not, would not, be the nation it is today.  I also want to thank all the veterans that I'm close to personally.  All of you have had a significant impact on my life, one way or the other!  I also want to thank everybody else that has ever worn the uniform.  You were all willing.

And I want to thank my Dad.  He sacrificed so that I never had to.

Happy Memorial Day indeed!!!