Today some personal stories and observations because it’s a very special day of remembrance for so many people. Memorial Day makes me take notice of the truly remarkable sacrifices of people I have loved – and feel appreciation for so many strangers who have given their lives and service for their country.
Memorial Day has never felt like a holiday to me – rather it feels sacred. And I include those like my Dad from all the wars the United States has engaged in; whether living or dead.
Bless you all for your service and your sacrifice. Thank you, thank you all so much!
My story:
The military and the service of so many men and women has always been important to me. Mine was the Viet Nam generation. I grew up with the body count and coffins draped with flags on the evening news. The backdrop to my childhood were reports of fighting and death. My friends were signing up for the draft when it was finally over. A hard time in the life of this country – where enormous mistakes were made all around. Viet Nam veterans were never really appreciated until many years later – and the shame of how they were treated is a permanent stain on many in my generation.
My Father’s story:
Then there was my father. He enlisted in the Merchant Marines at 17 because they were often a bit “look the other way” at allowing younger ages into their service. He joined in 1942 as soon as he graduated (they had 11 grades then) and stayed through to the end of the war in the Pacific. He helped haul essential supplies in ships that were barely protected. (NOTE: Mariners died at a rate of 1 in 26, which was the highest rate of casualties of any service. All told, 733 American cargo ships were lost and 8,651 of the 215,000 who served perished in troubled waters and off enemy shores). He was sometimes on Liberty ships, and once barely made it off the ship as it sank. If it wasn’t for the unbelievable bravery of his best friend, who found him pinned under a fallen big gun and got him out and off his sinking ship, he would have died like most of the others on that ship. In all he was on 3 ships that sank during his service.
Then in Korea my father was drafted into the Marines the only time they’ve drafted in history. He was within a few months of being too old to be drafted, but the military in their infinite wisdom didn’t consider his service with the Merchant Marine to be “real” military service. So he completed Marine service as well.
My father was a brave man and a patriot all his life. He’s gone now, losing a long battle with dementia, and I’m about to place his ashes at the National Cemetery in Fort Worth because I want him to be finally honored for that service. I’ve thought about this and struggled with the decision for 12 years. My father said he wished to be buried at sea, but being landlocked here in North Texas – I couldn’t figure out how to do that for him, and finally realized my procrastination was more because I wanted him somewhere he will be honored – year after year – for what he did in WWII, even if the military still doesn’t see fit to admit that brave service on their plaques for soldiers buried in the cemetery – so he will be buried as a Marine. He was proud of that too.
So today I remember the bravery and sacrifice of so many, year upon year. The beautiful patriotic songs will be played, and if my Dad was still here he would be sitting in his recliner with tears running down his face when they played the National Anthem, remembering all those he knew and lost. So I’m doing it for him – and remembering his service as well.
Thank you Daddy, from a very grateful daughter.