I manage to get somehow reflective each memorial day. The difference between Memorial Day and Veterans Day is relatively small, but noteworthy. Veterans Day is for all military people, living and dead, Memorial Day is just in memory of the departed. Now for the individuals involved I would imagine this distinction would be enormously important, but in truth as we all are mortal, all veterans will eventually be qualified to be celebrated and remembered on Memorial Day.
Why might that distinction matter? Well, I qualify as a veteran. I sometimes wonder if my 10 years of time in the military are worthy of any notice come some future Veterans Day. My personal experiences means I do have at least a more accurate view of just who we honor on Veterans Day.
Are all military members worthy of being honored? Living or dead, does just being a member of an armed service somehow make you worthy of any extra notice? Well, at the risk of being a little controversial, I am of the opinion that it does not. Anyone forget the old practice of a judge saying to some young scofflaw "Son, you have a choice, the Army or jail." Not exactly the dedicated and highly moral individual we build monuments to. Or, during draft times someone "inducted" because of some government legislated lottery just does not speak to all military members being of superior character.
Truth is, history tells us that US service members have at times behaved in ways that do not speak to the higher ideals of humanity. Being involved in an organized activity that is reflective of mankind at its worst is not exactly refective of humanity at its best. The members of our armed services are in fact a reflection of all humanity. You can certainly find examples of nobility, or some opposite extreme in everything humans do. Dieing in the performance of something noble is always noteworthy, dieing while practicing some private genocide is not. I knew the full gamut of individuals while in uniform. Some with a deeply ingrained sense of honor and service. I knew others who were collecting a paycheck till they could move on. In truth, I suspect it is less about what we do, than how we do it that constitutes true service. There are self centered jerks working in hospitals, just as there are real angels to be found in the same profession. It is the individual and what motivates them that makes all the difference..
I have known many true warriors. Some even served in a uniform. The line from the movie "A Few Good Men" speaks to this truth...... "... You do not need a patch on your arm to understand honor....". So true. Still, there is another aspect to military service that is unique to individuals who regularly deal with death and destruction...... either the dealing of death, or just having to continuously deal with it's collateral damages.
I have known two men that were veterans of Vietnam. Both of them are men I consider worthy of respect. They understand those mystical terms like "honor", "code of conduct", "responsibility", and "duty". That said, they are both scarred. Deeply scarred. A cursory investigation of even the exposed body parts reveal scars. A more detailed investigation leaves one wondering how they survived. That is just the physical evidence of violence. Both of these dear friends carry emotional wounds that are not visible. The old adage about whenever you go to bury another you should dig two graves (one for the victim, and one for yourself) is most obvious. The fact that both of these men have to live with the knowledge that they took another life weighs on them. It is a ponderous burden. I love them, and I grieve for the hurt evidenced in all they do.
Our nations cemeteries are full of markers for men like my two friends. Both of them speak of lost comrades with a soulful awareness. Each loss is still immediate for them. Those of us who love them, albeit vicariously, share in the loss. I want/need to honor my friends, and the brothers in arms that they still grieve.
That should sum up this entry..... but it does not. For each of the stone markers in all the nations cemeteries, and each of the flags placed there this weekend, there is not just a soldier who was hurt. That little flag marks a loss for parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, spouses and offspring. Each flag marks the center for the ripple of hurt for a much larger and expanding group. When considering the overall loss it becomes just more than I can comprehend.
That became more obvious to me this year. My loving wife of almost 30 years, the mother of my children, and "Gopper" to my grand babies shared with me the story of a young man I never knew. An Army CWO helicopter pilot named Russel Rowe. He graduated from High School a year before my wife. They eventually started dating, and I am sure he "owned" her heart. He had stated his intentions clearly before he left for his second tour in Vietnam.
He never made it back. I have learned of the effect on his family, and how the loss essentially destroyed that very family. My lovely wife was not destroyed, but there is a deep hurt somewhere in her that she carries always. The subject does not come up often, and is not the topic of frequent discussion. Still, occasionally she is forced to revisit the pain.. This year I am keenly aware of another Vietnam War victim, and I honor her sacrifice. A shame there is no monument to mark her loss.
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