(Courtesy of Rick Isbell, City of Columbus Veterans Affairs)
Why Do We Celebrate Memorial Day?
Memorial Day combines the celebration of the freedoms that we
have in this country with a deep remembrance in honoring those
who have fought and died in uniform defending them. And most
of those American soldiers, sailors, and airmen who did sacrifice
their lives did so in foreign lands.
For example: Take Europe alone: (In alphabetical order)
1. The American Cemetery at Aisne-Marne, France: 2289 of our military dead.
2. The American Cemetery at Ardennes, Belgium: 5329 of our military dead.
3. The American Cemetery at Brittany, France: 4410 of our military dead.
4. Brookwood, England American Cemetery: 468 of our military dead.
5. Cambridge, England: 3812 of our military dead.
6. Epinal, France American Cemetery: 5525 of our Military dead.
7. Flanders Field, Belgium: 368 of our military dead.
8. Florence, Italy: 4402 of our military dead.
9. Henri-Chapelle, Belgium: 7992 of our military dead.
10. Lorraine, France: 10,489 of our military dead.
11. Luxembourg, Luxembour: 5076 of our military dead.
12. Meuse-Argonne, France: 14246 of our military dead.
13. Netherlands, Netherlands: 8301 of our military dead.
14. Normandy, France: 9387 of our military dead.
15. Oise-Aisne, France: 6012 of our military dead.
16. Rhone, France: 861 of our military dead.
17. Sicily, Italy: 7861 of our military dead.
18. Somme, France: 1844 of our military dead.
19. St. Mihiel, France: 4153 of our military dead.
20. Suresnes, France: 1541 of our military dead.
That adds up to 104,366 Americans who have fought and
died overseas (and does not include those who were
shipped back and laid to rest in the United States).
So America, apologize to NO ONE. Remember and remind people of our sacrifice, and don't let others confuse leadership as arrogance.
Happy Memorial Day.
Although it's not Christmas, this seems somehow appropriate...
A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in the dim light,
I gazed round the family room, cherishing the sight;
My wife was asleep, her soft head on my chest,
Our son lay beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a gentle blanket of white,
Transforming our yard into a winter delight.
And the sparkling lights in our tree, I believe,
Completed the special magic that was Christmas Eve;
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love, I would sleep.
In perfect contentment—or so it would seem,
So I slumbered; perhaps I even started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed rather near,
And I opened my eyes as it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough; I didn't quite know;
Then the faint sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier it seemed, about twenty years old,
Or perhaps a marine, huddled out in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
What, was he standing watch over us and our child?
“What are you doing?” I demanded without fear,
“It’s freezing out there! Come on in here!
Or better yet, put down your pack, brush the snow off your sleeve,
And go home; you should be there on a cold Christmas Eve!”
I did not know who this poor lad could be,
Only that he belonged tonight with his family.
For barely a moment I think I saw his eyes shift;
Away from the cold and the snow-blown drift,
Looking over at our window, dancing with a warm fire's light…
He slowly sighed and replied, “Its really all right;
I'm out here by choice—out here every night.
It's my duty to stand right next to that line,
That separates you folk from the darkest of times.
“No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here—like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl’ on that day in December…
Yeah—that's a Christmas Gran always remembers;
"My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam,
And now it is my turn; and so, here I am.
Funny, I've not seen my own son in a long while,
But my wife sends me pictures—ya know, he's sure got her smile…”
Then he bent down and carefully pulled from his bag,
Something red, white, and blue... a folded American flag.
He gazed at it a moment, laying there colorfully;
He smiled very faintly, then looked back at me.
“I can live through the cold,” he said, “and being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can shiver in a foxhole with little to eat.
"I can carry the guilt of killing another,
Or lay down my life alongside my brother.
Ya see, we stand at the front against any and all,
To make sure for all time that this flag doesn’t fall.
“… So go back inside,” he added, “and harbor no fright;
Your family is waiting… Oh, I'll be all right.”
He said that to me with a reassuring grin,
Despite all the sites that he’d seen or been;
I asked, “But—what I can do, at the very least?
Maybe give you some money, or make you a feast?
Cuz, it seems way too little for all that you've done,
And for being away from your own wife and son.”
One eye welled a tear, but his face showed no regret;
“... Just tell us you love us; and never forget.
Fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
And stand your own watch there, no matter how long.
"And when we come home, either walking or dead,
Let us know you remember that we fought and we bled.
That’s payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we matter to you—as much as you matter to us.”
With a tip of his helmet down, he smiled once more,
Looking up at me in the cold, as he had just before,
He winked, held a thumb up, and then turned to go,
Back out into the world; back into the snow…
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC,
USN 30th Naval Construction Regiment OIC,
Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq