I am very privileged to have contact with some of the personnel, military and civilian, in-theatre. People I have universally come to admire and will, unfortunately for me, probably never meet! I was recently blessed with an email from one such person about his Memorial Day experience down range today. It was too good to keep to myself.
Thought I'd share with you that this email was sent to me by a civilian working in support of the military. He has been in Iraq for two years and has volunteered to extend his stay through December in order to finish out the tour with the troops who are there with him now! Thanks to all who are willing to serve, civilian and military. Your sacrifices are monumental and mostly unknown!
If you are sitting there thinking that no one really gets Memorial Day anymore....read on and be renewed!
If you know someone who may not really understand Memorial Day anymore...pass this on and allow them to be renewed.
There was a time I suppose, even though my Father is a veteran of WWII and
almost killed then, or watching the news tell every night when I was a little
kid, about how many Americans had been killed in Vietnam that day, and later
meeting men telling me their stories who had fought there, or even a few years
ago meeting with some veterans who were at Pearl Harbor the day it was
bombed...
...a time I
suppose...like many others, I
thought of Memorial Day as just a day off from work, going to the beach, firing
up the pit, etc.
It took 2 years here in Iraq for me to get
it...to bring it home to me...to my home now here in this combat
zone.
I have sat and talked with so many soldiers,
listening to their first hand accounts of fire fights, IED's and other shaky
times in this country.
Mulitiple Purple Heart recipients. Those
coming in here bandaged up, in a hurry to communicate with their families before
they found out anything from someone else.
Many that have come in here after being
wounded, looking like someone had fired a shotgun gun at them, from all the
shrapnel wounds they had suffered.
There are many soldiers I have met, talked
with and looked in the eye here, that were later killed, or wounded so bad I did
not see them again.
Soldiers who have shined like any that ever
have taken a field of battle.
Our last wounded soldier, a fifty-ish First
Sergeant who was reminicent of Robert DeNiro in "Apocalype Now". He would
dismount his humvee to make himself sniper bait, because he thought he would be
quicker on the draw and see them first...and he was...until last week when a
round fired by a sniper exploded through one of his legs and lodged in the
other.
What did he say to the medic?
"Patch me up and get me back out
there."
Instead, he was sent to Germany to get
operated on, but told his soldiers, he will be back by September.
There are some unbelievable stories here...
Today there
was a Memorial Day service held here in the tent, for those we have lost here on
this camp, here in this country, and for all those from other wars.
The Chaplain who ran it, and everyone agreed, did a great job.
It was the first Memorial Service, many
said, that was not depressing. The Chaplain made it more of a celebration of
lives. There was no taps played, and no Roll Call done, which when you hear
that, it just tears your heart out.
Then at night, we had our little Memorial Day Luau here in the tent.
As the night progressed, and as usual, I went
from soldier to soldier, shaking hands, slapping backs, and just joking and
laughing with them. Trying to make sure everyone was having fun,
and everyone had everything they needed.
Everyone seemed to have a great time, just
for awhile forgetting what world was just outside the tent. Even hearing at least 3 far off
explosions, along with jets, and helicopters flying over us all night, fearing
an attack I guess because of the holiday.
Later in the wee hours of the night, after it
slowed down some. I stood outside in the warm night air, and thought of all those that have paid that ultimate price
thoughout our country's great history.
So many, who have given their lives and
allowed me, and so many others to breath free air. The free air that it seems everyone in the
world, wants to come to our country to breath.
And...I thought of those families of soldiers
I have met here who had been killed. Families, who I either was shown pictures
of by that soldier. Or pictures I later saw of his family at his
Memorial Service, after he was killed.
I wondered how they were doing this
day.
Those families who have received the
visit.
The visit all families who have a loved one
here dread.
The visit from a soldier in their dress blues,
knocking on their door.
Starting the conversation when the door
is opened, with the saddest of sentences...
"On behalf of the President, I regret to
inform you..."
The true meaning of this day will never be
lost on me again...
