When I was growing up Memorial Day was always celebrated with a parade followed by speeches and a ceremony on the green. The Veterans of Foreign war would be offering those little red cloth poppies for sale. You would see them worn on mens' lapels and ladies dresses or sweaters. The parade was a festive event but still somehow cloaked in a solemn way. The significance of the day was impressed upon us children. This was at a time when our parents were veterans of World War 2 and Korea. The time just before Vietnam. The memory of those that did not return home from those wars was still very fresh. As the flag passed by in procession men removed their hats and placed them over their hearts, there heads lowered and they became silent.
My father and many of my Uncles were in WW2. By the grace of God they all returned. Seldom did any of them speak of their experiences during that war, as a general rule that just wasn't done. As a child it seemed to me the pain of those memories was so great to bear they remained silent. My own Dad said little, and on those rare occasions when he did, he spoke with genuine sorrow. His job was dropping bombs. He would speak of all the airmen that were lost, his peers and comrades in arms. He would tell how they waited after the mission to see which planes would come back. Sometimes he would speak of those dropping bombs and speculate on just where or who they may have fallen upon. There were no " smart bombs " then. Those 500 pounders, as Dad called them, killed and maimed indiscriminately, combatants and civilians alike. His eyes would grow cloudy when he spoke of that, and then turn away.
In my own experience I can not say I lost a comrade. I was fortunate that in my twenty year career in the United States Navy I was never engaged in actual combat. The closest I came was supplying ammo and provisions to those that were fighting. Vietnam was winding down by 1971 the year I enlisted. It wasn't a popular time to be in the service. Many people at home despised those that served. I have no complaints, I wasn't being shot at and did not have to witness death as those before me had. To this day I have been blessed with good fortune. I know no one personalty that died in defense of this nation. All my family,relatives and friends have returned. Today is a day about those that did not return. That is the significance of this day. That lesson was taught to me as a child and one I will never forget. It is a lesson I sincerely hope all future generations learn as well. Today marks a solemn occasion and we should be reverent in it's observation. Following the ceremonies we should speak of those that did not return and allow them to join in. It is only by remembering and speaking of them that they live on. To quote General George S. Patton. " It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died, rather we should thank God that such men lived." I believe that is the long and short of it, that sense of duty to their fellow man is what drives men to war and for that we need be thankful. From whatever source you wish to believe that sense of duty is derived, be thankful. For God and Country.
My father and many of my Uncles were in WW2. By the grace of God they all returned. Seldom did any of them speak of their experiences during that war, as a general rule that just wasn't done. As a child it seemed to me the pain of those memories was so great to bear they remained silent. My own Dad said little, and on those rare occasions when he did, he spoke with genuine sorrow. His job was dropping bombs. He would speak of all the airmen that were lost, his peers and comrades in arms. He would tell how they waited after the mission to see which planes would come back. Sometimes he would speak of those dropping bombs and speculate on just where or who they may have fallen upon. There were no " smart bombs " then. Those 500 pounders, as Dad called them, killed and maimed indiscriminately, combatants and civilians alike. His eyes would grow cloudy when he spoke of that, and then turn away.
In my own experience I can not say I lost a comrade. I was fortunate that in my twenty year career in the United States Navy I was never engaged in actual combat. The closest I came was supplying ammo and provisions to those that were fighting. Vietnam was winding down by 1971 the year I enlisted. It wasn't a popular time to be in the service. Many people at home despised those that served. I have no complaints, I wasn't being shot at and did not have to witness death as those before me had. To this day I have been blessed with good fortune. I know no one personalty that died in defense of this nation. All my family,relatives and friends have returned. Today is a day about those that did not return. That is the significance of this day. That lesson was taught to me as a child and one I will never forget. It is a lesson I sincerely hope all future generations learn as well. Today marks a solemn occasion and we should be reverent in it's observation. Following the ceremonies we should speak of those that did not return and allow them to join in. It is only by remembering and speaking of them that they live on. To quote General George S. Patton. " It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died, rather we should thank God that such men lived." I believe that is the long and short of it, that sense of duty to their fellow man is what drives men to war and for that we need be thankful. From whatever source you wish to believe that sense of duty is derived, be thankful. For God and Country.
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