Here in the United States, Memorial Day is the day we honor the fallen men and women in service to their country. Many people also honor the men and women who have served and are currently serving. But it is also a time to remember lost loved ones. So today on this Memorial Day, I honor all service men and women and my father who died last year.
Let me tell you a little bit about him as a young man. He had been a Sargent in the Army during World War II. Or as many older gentlemen like to say "The Big War" or W W 2. I separated it like that so you could read it the way they say it. It's always made me want to laugh when they said dubbaya dubbaya two.
My father was just barely 18 years old when he enlisted in the army right before his high school graduation. He went straight to boot camp in Texas. Having been a member of the ROTC, he quickly moved to Buck Sargent. He was the youngest of seven sons. All but my oldest uncle serviced in a branch of the Armed Forces. There were soldiers, sailors and marines. It was a time of great pride in his family and the country to service for his country. My Grandmother would have preferred if none of them enlisted, but 6 out of 7 of her sons did join up. Amazingly every one of them made it back and without major injuries. Families of soldiers everywhere know the odds of that happening are very slim.
My Father fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He spent most of his time in France and some time in England. He received a medal for being shot. A bullet pierced his helmet, but didn't seriously wound him. Good thing, or I may not be writing this today huh? He rarely talked about the war until he hit his seventies. When "Saving Private Ryan" came out, he took my mother to see it. He said it was too much like being there again and he didn't enjoy the film. Oh he thought it was really good, but that it was too real. I remember hearing that a lot, when the movie came out. I watched the movie twice and got a better idea of what it was like for him. Watching it on a big screen with surround sound enhanced the feeling of being there. I got why my father wasn't very keen on celebrating the Fourth of July. He always hated the fireworks. Watch the scene where they get off the boats on the beach and you may get it, like I did as to why it was so hard for the veterans of that battle to watch.
Dad had a box full of things he collected during the war and lots of pictures with his buddies. There were even some spent bullets in the box. When I was a kid they kind of made me nervous just to look at them. When my father passed away, my sister-in-law had some of those pictures blown up and framed for his memorial service. An American flag was draped over his coffin and then folded up in the traditional manner for safe keeping. We gave the flag to my brother. I never really paid attention to all of the rituals people perform for fallen soldiers and veterans before, until his funeral. It's a nice way to honor someone. I watched the Memorial Day concert from Washington D.C. last night with a new perspective. Too bad we all can't live together without strife, war and sorrow of loss. Then we wouldn't need days called "Memorial Day".
