As a little girl, the day we now call Memorial Day, was known as Decoration Day.
I remember going, early on that day, to Crownland Cemetery, just a few blocks from our house. There was always a crowd of people gathered around the crosses that marked the graves of young men who had given their life for their country. Each year the number of crosses grew in number while sadly, the crowd honoring them grew less.
I remember the sound of Taps being played as well as the firing of the gun salute. As a little girl that sound jolted my heart and it still does today.
I still find my way to those crosses, every Memorial Weekend, after I put flowers on my dad’s grave. I feel that it is holy ground.
While I was growing up, each night on the news, there were pictures on tv of soldiers fighting in the Vietnam War. I saw what appeared to be very young men wading through swamps with water up to their waists and they were carrying their guns over their heads. On their faces I saw sweat and exhaustion. And yet they persevered because that is what soldiers do.
I remember it was not a popular war and sadly many of those young men came back home without any celebration or honor from the American people. I use the word WAR but it was actually a conflict because congress never actually declared war yet for twenty years our servicemen fought for what they believed was a cause worth fighting for. Some volunteered. Some were drafted. No matter what…they fought.
I see the effects today on many of those men. Most don’t talk much about what they endured yet the stories are there, on their faces. Agent Orange still affects so many of these men. Many may not have died in the war but the effects of it have taken their life many years later.
More than 47,000 military were killed in action. 11,000 noncombat deaths. More than 150,000 wounded. 10,000 missing. Those are statistics. Those were Americans. They were sons whose moms and dads worried and waited.
I remember wearing a bracelet with the name of a young man who was missing in action. I still have that bracelet. I wonder if he was ever found.
I never really understood the controversy of the Vietnam War. I just knew we were fighting against communism.
So this weekend I will take the grave saddle of flowers to honor my dad to Crownland Cemetery. I will say a few words to my dad as I stand at his grave and wipe a few tears. 11 years in June that I’ve been going to that grave. I will then drive down the winding gravel road to the east side of the cemetery where I will offer a few words of thanks to the men, and now women, who gave their life as the Pledge of Allegiance says…for liberty and justice for ALL.
And to those veterans of any war or conflict that are reading this, I want to thank you for your service. God bless America and its people.