I wrote the following a few years ago for Memorial Day. I have modified it to better suit today.
----- With a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat, I have today remembered the true meaning of the Veteran's Day as I hung a flag on a pole and fixed a window display with my old military uniform and the presentation flag from my uncle's casket. I REMEMBER I remember of being aware of a difference in my parents demeanor the day that a funeral was held in the high school gymnasium for my cousin. He was a casualty of the Korean War, an only son of my aunt and uncle. He died from a head wound that he received from "friendly fire" as he lead a charge up a hill. While I didn't attend the funeral, I was in the gym before the funeral and saw the many baskets of flowers. I remember of attending the funeral for my high school best friend's father, and hearing taps played at a military funeral for the first time. I remember of trying on a pilot's helmet belonging to my now ex wife's cousin, while at a Christmas gathering, before he shipped out to
Vietnam. I remember of learning that his helicopter had been shot down and that he was missing in action. I remember of touching his name on the "Wall" of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington D.C., and thinking of his twin brother and the loss that he must feel. He was also a helicopter pilot that was in Nam. I remember receiving the flag from off of my uncle's casket at his military funeral. How it saddened me to know that my daughter and I were
the only family members to have ever traveled to Seattle to visit him, and that he never married and left no legacy other than a monetary one.
His sweetheart had been killed in an accident while he was away serving his country during the war. What his life was like after his discharge,
none of us ever knew. I remember the chilling final farewell brought on by the firing of the 21 gun salute at my brother's funeral. Of taps and it's echo from the other end of the cemetery. Of the presentation flag being folded and given to my sister in law. Of a good friend dressed in his uniform for the military ceremony, giving me the shell casings from the gun salute. I remember my old neighbor George from across the street re-living the many, many tales of his W.W.II experience. He told of seeing the raising of the Iwo Jima flag, then as the scene was recreated a second time to be photographed in what became that now famous W.W.II photo. I remember my own military stint, and while I didn't really want to serve in the Army, I knew that it was my duty to do so, and to do it with pride while the many draft dodgers did their thing. I can now hold my head up high. Can they? I remember of when the Berlin Wall came down, and of crying with the pride I felt in thinking that even I had played a small part in the end of the Cold War as we know it. I remember the slogan "If you love your freedom, thank a vet." Today I join with the rest of you in thanking those who are serving, and those who served and gave the ultimate sacrifice. greenbeanman
US Army draftee 1966-1968, 208th Military Police Company
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