On this, my final Memorial Day on Active Duty, I take a moment to reflect. I walked to the Court House in my new adopted town this morning to attend the joint Veterans of Foreign Wars and American Legion post memorial service at the war memorial. I’m sure most of the people there knew one another, but I didn’t recognize anyone. It looked like most attendees were veterans and members of those two organizations, but it was a respectable turnout with music provided by the community band.
Perhaps most touching was the intermittent gentle rain that started at 10 am (with the service) and stopped at 11 am (at the conclusion of the service) as if Mother Nature were shedding tears as the presenters talked. I had to smile as a Viet Nam veteran shared some of the lighter moments of his time in the war. At the conclusion of the ceremony, they read the name of each local veteran who had given his life in each of the wars since World War I. This town, as many towns did, lost a large number of men in World War II. They have been fortunate to not lose anyone since the Viet Nam era — though I know many have served. Then the auxiliary representative from each organization laid a wreath while the band played Taps.
My time is nearly done. Somewhere, I’m confident there’s some late-teen/early-twenty-something who delayed their enlistment so they could get one paid holiday at their minimum wage job before they report to basic training. That person is taking my place in the next five days. They’re looking for education and a better life than the path they were on. They should be able to find it. Maybe they’ll get a clue sooner than I did. It took me about thirteen years or so before I really grasped the “service” part of being in the service.
People enter military service for a variety of reasons. It’s the services’ job to instill in them the greater reason for why they serve. That’s accomplished through the people they serve with who set the example from day to day by being honorable, maintaining integrity, and putting others before themselves. And sometimes, they are in the right place at the wrong time and pay with their lives. For that, we remember freedom isn’t free, and we honor them. Laying a wreath isn’t nearly enough, but it’s symbolic of our respect and appreciation.
