May. 28, 2006 - 22:41 MDT

FOR ALL TIME

For many folks I guess Memorial Day began to lose its real meaning when I was a kid. I asked my Dad what Decoration Day was (most folks called it that then) and he told me that it was when the military had grand parades and the soldiers received their decorations on the parade grounds.

Our little family, like many other families usually went to the hills on a picnic on Memorial Day, that being the first day that family men felt safe taking the family to the hills.

I am sure that many folks who had lost some one in one war or another knew full well what Decoration Day was meant to be and followed that practice.

When I married in 1943 Heather's family took me in as one of them, which I still consider an honor. Every Memorial Day the family would go to Crown Hill Cemetery and decorate the family graves. Such action was entirely new to me, but seemed to me to bring the whole family closer together, decorating family graves and remembering those of the family who had passed on.

Now it is a long weekend rather than the original day of May 30.

I read this on Google today:

"Memorial Day officially proclaimed by General John Logan, national commander of the grand Army of the Republic in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May, 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery."

Rightly so were the Confederate soldiers honored and remembered to my way of thinking. Although some might differ. They were our countrymen, who were slain in battle, who fought with valor and honor.

I am not too sure if today's lip service, and parades are really taken seriously, especially by the government. It seems that after return from service military folks are pretty well ignored in many ways which indicates to me that they are only appreciated in time of war.

My association with the miltary happened in the VietNam era and my first tour was with the Navy on Yankee Station, second and third were with the Air Force. Most of those military folks were committed, it seemed to me, as married folks are. No chest puffery, just plain getting daily life done, living up to one's responsibilities and taking care of those around them. I saw the hours most military put in, especially Navy folk wherein each sailor wore several hats. When the oiler pulled alongside, each sailor had a duty on the replenishment operation. When that was over, back to their regular duty. Sleep was something precious and grabbed whenever the time allowed, once in a while in their regular sleeping quarters, but often on the deck of the hanger and such places. But the Air Force folk were hardworking also, just were set up a bit different.

I formed a love for those military people, men and women both. I personally knew a pilot who was almost killed from enemy fire and made it home on the proverbial wing and a prayer, spent much time in hospital. Another pilot I knew didn't make it out of his aircraft, a good Catholic man father of 12 children crossed over on Christmas morning.

Heather's brother was Navy, as was our son Rob, my uncle Les ran one of the mule teams in the mountains of Italy during World War two and never truly got back to normal on his return.

Many of the people I worked with in the fifties were returned veterans, some of whom would occasionally talk about their experiences.

The way it seems to me is that every breath I draw, someone shed blood so that I can keep breathing.

Oh sure, while overseas I saw some of the "Ugly Americans" who called citizens of the country we were in, "gooks." I noted they were looked at with displeasure by others in their unit. In every barrel there is one or two, even in the military.

To put it in modern perspective, much like illegal aliens from south of our border, the military is doing dangerous work, spending uncountable hours and living in uncomfortable situations, -- doing work that the ordinary American Citizen won't do, and being very poorly paid as well.

For me this Memorial Day shall be the start of my observing a moment of silence and reflection every day of our honored military dead. Because to my way of looking at things, every day for the living of them is a sacrifice of some kind, and often only the grave eases their pain. So I shall remember them FOR ALL TIME . . . . . . . . .

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