Most young folks confuse Memorial Day and Veterans Day. They seem to think of the days as
interchangeable, and aren’t aware of the distinction that Memorial Day, which
used to be called “Decoration Day” – a day to decorate the graves of dead
soldiers – is a day set aside to honor those who gave their life for their
country. Veterans Day, of course, is to
honor all our men and women in uniform.
The two young men pictured at the top of this post – my dad,
Bill, on the left; my wife Toni’s dad, Mario, on the left – did not give their
lives for their nation, thank God. Both
saw plenty of combat in WW2; both had plenty of enemy rounds fired at
them. My dad was combat infantry, shot
at countless times by Nazi soldiers; Toni’s dad crewed a B-29 in the Army Air
Force, and many times came back from a mission with plenty of bullet-holes in
the huge bomber.
They lost a lot of friends and comrades in the war, and both
of them instilled in their children a solemn understanding and appreciation for
Memorial Day. Toni and I have passed
this understanding and appreciation along to our children. Just as Toni and I have friends who died in
the Viet Nam war, our kids have friends who have died in the wars in Iraq and
Afghanistan.
To all those who gave their lives for their nation, thank
you, and God Bless.
My family was fortunate to have all its veterans return from
service. For Toni’s dad, it was “home
alive in ‘45”; for my dad, it was ’46, as he was sent to Japan with the Army of
Occupation after V-J Day.
Dad’s younger brother John, my Uncle Jack, seen here, did
not see combat in WW2; the war was over when he put on the uniform, and he was
a spy (I prefer that term to “intelligence operative”) during what came to be
known as the Cold War. Because of the
nature of his work, Uncle Jack never talked too much about it.
My Aunt Virginia, my mother’s sister, seen here, volunteered
for service during WW2. Her she is in
her WAVES uniform (Women Accepted for Voluntary Emergency Service), attached to
the U.S. Navy as a Pharmacist’s Mate during the war, with the rank of PO2C -
Petty Officer Second Class. She said to
her four sisters “somebody from this family should join the service, and it’s
going to be me.”
So excuse me if I violate the terms of the definition of Memorial
Day and take time to remember some of my family members who served and came
home alive. I have plenty of friends who
served and did not come home alive, and they are in my thoughts today, as
well.
As the saying goes, “All gave
some; some gave all.” God rest those who gave all. Today, and every day, we honor you.
I thought of you when several TV news anchors said Happy Memorial Day, everybody! There is NOTHING happy about Memorial Day, in my mind, and I cringe when these idiots say such things, oblivious to all of those listening who have lost someone close to them.
ReplyDeleteThe battle, I think, has been lost. You're right about how I react when bubble-headed bleached blondes (sorry, Don Henley) say "Happy Memorial Day." I want to yell back at the TV and say "F%&k you, happy-head - go dig up Tommy Armitage's bones, and tell him his old schoolyard pal Tim Morrissey wishes you didn't die when you threw yourself on a grenade in Viet Nam to save four fellow Marines - tell him to have a Happy Memorial Day." A few of the national outlets I watched Monday were appropriately somber in their references to Memorial Day, but the locals - good God, what a collection of smiling dolts.
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