Memorial Day Musings

All,

Why Do We Have A Memorial Day?

"Because I died...
... at Bunker Hill. Grapeshot tore through my body at New Orleans. Crushing hooves with riders as swirls of blue and gray ... and red ... crashed down on me in strange sounding places like Chickamauga, Antietam, and Shiloh.

The heat and swamp sucked at my last moments in the wilds of Cuba. A green fog of poisonous gas slithered over the side and into my trench, where water stood mixed with slime and blood.

I lay face down in fetid pools clogged with jungle vines, felt the hot sands of Africa burning through my back, lay with cold cheek against wet beach sand, and fell from gingerbread doorways into cobblestone streets. I gaped for air and breathed fire and oily water.

Snow clung to my lashes and ice formed at the corners of my mouth as a tiny wisp of steam wafted from the crimson flow of life out of my ears and stomach.

As I fell forward, I felt the jagged pain of bamboo beneath the water tearing at my flesh.

I fought and died when I didn’t know why. I was killed before I was old enough to vote. I never knew the pleasure of savoring the memories that come with old age. I left mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, children, and sweethearts to weep after me. I lay where names and landscapes and faces were all foreign to me. To this day, no one knows where the earth swallowed me.

I was called wop, ******, dago, spic, kike, honky, and mick. I was tall and short and thin and heavy and young and old and cheerful and sad. I was a shop steward, an insurance agent, a writer, an orange picker, and the head of a grocery chain stretching from Baltimore to St. Louis.

I lived around the corner, up the street, next door, over the garage, across the tracks, on the hill and out of a suitcase. I came from a family farm, a college campus, a factory, a new-car agency, and from Broadway.

I died that we would remain free, that liberty would not perish, that women and children would be safe from terror, that my home would be protected, that an idea would be proven right, that my friend might live, that people back home could make overtime in the plants, and that a sagging economy might be helped.

Sometimes I served my country, sometimes my ideals and sometimes my own ego.

But I served.

On Memorial Day, I hope you pause for a few moments to think on these things. You are still free to think ... and speak ... and publish whatever you wish because I gave the most I had ... my all.

Some of you have known some of my pain, my tears, and the sickness of soul for the waste of human life.

Yet, the giving of my life was not wasted. For perhaps somehow, in some way, people will do something to end my dying.

My death has extended the time given you to do that something.

After the next war, there may be no one left to honor the dead."

"Tell them, tell them when you get home that I gave all of my tomorrow's so they could have today!"

Those are the words on a tombstone, far across the Pacific, of someone who gave up his life for our future.

When Memorial Day comes around this year and your enjoying your time off with your family and friends, please take a few moments to remember just exactly what Memorial Day is really all about. Think of the words spoken by Abraham Lincoln "that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain." Last of all remember that gravestone far across the Pacific which states: "Tell them I gave all my tomorrows so they could have today!” Remember all of the heroes that rest in cemeteries all across America and all over the world, let's remember that they too gave all their tomorrows so that we could have today.'

Things to think about!

Regards,
Jim 'ACE' -

[mike_baram]

Very well put, Jim...thanks.
Mike

[Shooter]

Ahhhhhhhhhh, Jimmie, how true are the words. . . .

And yet, did we give of ourselves anything more than what we thought the body demanded of us? Can we hold them hostage over feelings that they would not donate to us at the time? What is it worth if we must beg for it?

I only ask that those who gave, recognise the sacrifice of those who gave more, those who gave all.

What would they give of the ride after they arrived at the destination?

Joke 'em if they can't take a F****!

This day belongs to our brothers who lie in the sands.

We take care of our own.

Semper Fi, brother man!

Shooter sends

[Ginger.]

If this is your Memorial Day Billy Yank,I salute all your Heroes that sleep in Foriegn Fields.
We owe them a debt for our freedom that can never be repaid.
God Bless,
Steve.

I can't believe some people made a stink over the proposed WWII memorial "cluttering up" the Mall in D.C. If the vets want to plant the place with plastic pink flamingoes, I say let'em. They earned it.

[Dan_San_Abbott]

Jim Ace:
That is most thoughtful, it is beautiful.........
Bluest of skies to you
Dan-San Abbott

[Richard_Schrader]

Jim Ace;
Thanks for the great words. It's good to hear from you again.
Richard

To all my brothers who answered this post,

It didn't matter what uniform you wore, if you were fighting for freedom, and against oppression ... you are my brothers. Thank you for helping me to remember our fallen brothers. May they sleep well, and I sincerely hope they have found peace.

Best regards,
Jim 'ACE' -