What does Memorial Day mean to you?

[AllardChardon]

I came over here this morning to see if anyone had addressed this day or this weekend and was rather shocked to find no entries on the first page.

Memorial Day means something different to everyone even though the day of remembrance is for the military, in particular.

I remember the Viet Nam Vets more than any other because they were the young men of my age group that never got to enjoy a full life. The senselessness of fighting communism in Viet Nam only added to the sorrow. I am not proud of what our leaders ask our young men to do, now or then. But honor and remember them on this day, I will, and, once again, feel the loss of so many good men to silly wars.

 

[oggbashan]

Memorial Day means little to me because it is a US-only event.

We have Remembrance Day on 11 November, the anniversary of the armistice which ended the fighting for World War 1. It is now usually moved to the closest Sunday but many people in the UK observe the 11th AND the Sunday with a two-minute silence at 11am - the time the armistice came into effect.

However, the week before last I visited the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach in Normandy. I remembered those who died for freedom in Europe. I wasn't alone. There was a continual procession of people arriving to pay their respects.

On 6th June, the 65th anniversary of D-Day, there will be major events throughout Normandy including an attempt to form a human chain of people holding hands for the whole length of the D-Day beaches.

It is amazing to see just how much the people of Normandy do to remind themselves and others about the sacrifices made for their freedom.

I may not observe Memorial Day, but I remember those who died, and are dying for our freedoms.

Og

 

[YoursSINSerely]

I came over here this morning to see if anyone had addressed this day or this weekend and was rather shocked to find no entries on the first page.

Memorial Day means something different to everyone even though the day of remembrance is for the military, in particular.

I remember the Viet Nam Vets more than any other because they were the young men of my age group that never got to enjoy a full life. The senselessness of fighting communism in Viet Nam only added to the sorrow. I am not proud of what our leaders ask our young men to do, now or then. But honor and remember them on this day, I will, and, once again, feel the loss of so many good men to silly wars.

Thank you for starting this thread. Although my Dad didn't die in the war, he was buried with military honors. He was a very proud American and brought up his kids the same way. I remember all the men and women who faught for me to live my life in freedom and I thank those who are still fighting for it. I have a nephew serving in Irag right now. Thanks, Mark, and please be safe!

 

[voluptuary_manque]

During my twenty-nine years of military service, active and reserve, I was sent many places to do many things, some odd and some very mundane. On several occasions the brass decided that I needed to take a junior officer to Honolulu to laison with the Twenty-Fifth Infantry. We'd work Mon-Thursday, do our after action report Friday morning and then 'tourist' Friday afternoon and Saturday. One trip a captain and I made the 'mistake' of visiting both the Arizona Memorial and the Punchbowl National Cemetery. Don't do that. It's overwhelming, emotionally. So many sacrifices, so many cut down in their prime . . .

Last summer, HM and I also visited the Normandy beaches. When you stand at the top of the beach and realize that the invading forces came out of the sea and then climbed the heights under fire the only appropriate response is awe. I can't believe that they did it on purpose.

I remember each evening in garrison when the post would come to a halt as the flag was lowered and the evening gun sounded to mark the end of the work day. No man is truly dead so long as his name is still spoken. Starting at midnight this morning, volunteers read the names of every American lost in war from the Revolution to this day. Speak them firmly, with respect. They live still.

 

[JackLuis]

I try to remember the members of my family that served in America's Armed Forces. As far as I know most of them came home safe and sound, even my Uncle Elmer who was a Marine in WW 1 and participated in much of the the war in the brief period of American involvement was whole when he cam home.

I don't know how many of my kin were in the Civil War. My great grandfather was just a boy during that one.

My father served in WW 2 and my other Uncle served in WW 2 and Korea.

They saved Viet Nam for me. I went over there in the first big rush of troops in September of '65 and spent a year. I chose not to re-enlist at the end of my tour.

Kids my daughters age are in the east doing their nations bidding now and we need to acknowledge their service.

And I remember Sp-4 Jerry Basden, of Denton Texas. The only man in my outfit to die during my tour. Jerry was 20 when he died.
RIP Jerry

 

[JagFarlane]

I remember each evening in garrison when the post would come to a halt as the flag was lowered and the evening gun sounded to mark the end of the work day. No man is truly dead so long as his name is still spoken. Starting at midnight this morning, volunteers read the names of every American lost in war from the Revolution to this day. Speak them firmly, with respect. They live still.

It always sent shivers up my spine to listen to the National Anthem play as the flag is lowered. Sure, we'd act like it was something else we had to do, but you'd always note just a touch more military bearing as the flag was lowered and carried back to be folded away for the night.

 

[DesertPirate]

I say a few prayers for all who lost their lives in service of my country. May my brothers in arms rest in peace.

And a few more for those in service now, may they come home safe.

 

[AllardChardon]

Thank you all for your remembrances. My dad was in WWII and so was my ex-husband's dad. My oldest son is the son of a Viet Nam Vet, who came home in one piece but was shattered emotionally and never really recovered. Heroin ultimately brought him eternal peace, I think. The last time I talked to him he was a full-on addict and not long for this world. He wanted to know how his son was doing. Then, I lost track of him and his family. I try every so often with the new search engines. So far, no luck.

 

[Safe_Bet]

BTW, it's nice that ya'll honor our brave warriors and warriorettes, and thank you for that, but if you REALLY want to "care" you might think about donating a little time and /or money to your local VA hospital or veteran's assistance shelter. just sayin...

 

[voluptuary_manque]

BTW, it's nice that ya'll honor our brave warriors and warriorettes, and thank you for that, but if you REALLY want to "care" you might think about donating a little time and /or money to your local VA hospital or veteran's assistance shelter. just sayin...

Or supporting things like the Disabled Veterans Scuba Project out of Long Beach where the Colonel takes kids who are defining themselves by what they are (paralyzed) and introduces them to what they can do (go diving). Good man, the Colonel.

Master Sergeant, Ret'd.

 

[angela146]

When I was growing up, my father was a naval officer. There were several times when I attended funerals with him and my mom, including some at Arlington. In a couple of cases, when I was older, I was asked to walk with one of the younger children and help them through the day that their father or uncle was buried.

No matter how many times I heard it, I always jumped at the loud sound of the rifle salute interrupting the quiet of the cemetery. It was somehow a moment of finality for me.

A few years ago, my husband and I were in church and one of the hymns was "My Hope is Built on Nothing Less...". Eight notes into the song, Bill helped me quickly out of the pew, out the door and into the vestibule. It has the same tune as the Navy Hymn ("Eternal Father Strong to Save..."). I can't hear it without crying.

Most years, on Memorial day, I go to the local graves of a couple of soldiers to whom I have some kind of connection. This year, the first was one of my husband's former students who was killed in Iraq. The other was the grandfather of a friend of ours who died two years ago at the age of ninety-one.

I met him on his eighty-ninth birthday. He told me about his time on a ship in the Pacific during WWII. The ship had no name, just a number. Some of the stories included times in port when perhaps he wasn't entirely faithful to his wife. According to his family, he had told multiple versions of the same stories over the years, with more details included as time went on.

He showed me pictures of several of the reunions of the men he served with. In each picture, they were getting older and older and fewer and fewer.

Today I sat at his grave and wrote a love letter to him on lavender paper with a matching envelope and a couple of drops of my perfume. I used my pocket knife to pry the dirt and grass away from the headstone and tucked the letter as deep as I could get it. Hopefully it will stay there.

That's what Memorial Day means to me.

 

[angela146]

If you can play the trumpet and want to do something useful and meaningful, please check out the following websites:

operationtaps.org

tapsbugler.com

 

[JAMESBJOHNSON]

Like most most good Americans, I used the occasion to get wasted and piss on as many graves as possible.

Let's take inventory.

My son is an Air Force Master Sergeant.

I served with the 315th Air Commando/Special Ops Wing at Phan Rang, Vietnam. I also served with the 1st, 35th, 50th Tactical Fighter Wings, and the 40th Combat Support Group at Zaragoza, Spain.

My old man was 13 (4 October 1929) when he enlisted for WWII, and was 15 when the war ended in 1945. He was an MP (military police) in the Philippines, and 6'-5" tall.

Both grandfather were too young for WWI.

Five ancestors served in the Civil War. One was a brigadier general, another was a lieutenant, and three were privates. One was killed in action, one died from illness, one was wounded and permanently disabled, one deserted after the Yankees murdered his wife, and one died a few months after the war was over.

One ancestor served in the War of 1812.

One was a Major in the US effort to take Florida from the Spanish circa 1817.

And 45-50 ancestors served in the American Revolution. One was an MD at Valley Forge. One was an MD who served with Francis Marion in South Carolina. One was a member of the Georgia Supreme Executive Council of the Rebel General Assembly (he was captured and died on a British prison ship), one was an officer of the Frontier Regulators and hanged by the British (his sons hunted down the Brits and killed all of them), and the rest did all kinds of stuff.

 

[AllardChardon]

Another round of heartfelt thanks for sharing what Memorial Day means to you. Angela I am so glad to see you here.

In a private message, I related the horrors of living through the draft with so many male friends that were high school graduates in the 60s during Viet Nam. The youngsters on here have no idea what that was like. My oldest son's father went because his number was up. That is the sad truth of it. No choice other than jail or Mexico or Canada and no more family ties. Some choice.