My father had a full military funeral. He wanted it. The US Army shaped his life. It was his career. Had he still been stationed in Washington, DC, at the pentagon, I think he would have been buried in Arlington Cemetery.
Dad was drafted right after high school and received a battlefield commission in Europe. He fought in D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge. After 20 years as an officer, he did another 20 as a civil servant in the Department of Defense.
He didn’t talk much about the friends he lost in the wars. He had lots of friends in the military who he hunted and fished with over the years but I never heard a story from him about friends dying in service.
He was always quiet on Memorial Day. I know he was thinking and remembering but I don’t know about who or what. Late in his life after I had served, he did talk more about his tours. The stories were mostly safe and humorous. Nothing very scary, though.
I remember the friends I’ve lost to war. The memories are vivid and I think about them more than just on Memorial Day. But then, I guess I don’t talk much about it to my friends. It’s a personal and private thing. I look at old pictures and try to focus on good thoughts.
But there is nothing good about losing a loved one to war. Being a patriot is defending one’s country. All those who’ve served in the military are patriots. Today, we’re still losing friends and loved ones and, regardless of our thoughts about the politics of war, there are young men and women defending our rights and placing their lives on the line for this country.
Today is a day for quiet remembrance. Spend a few moments away from the grill and TV and think about what our freedom means and what and who it takes to have it. I hope there comes a time when no one has to die for us to have these freedoms. Until then those who have given all deserve our profound respect and gratitude.
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