For the Heroes
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There are two reasons to have days like Memorial Day.
One reason is for us.
Because we forget.
Take our military personnel for granted.
We live in comfort and ease because they protect and defend us.
After a war, we’re mindful of sacrifices.
We remember names of battles and the fallen that we see, hear, and know.
But eventually, wars end.
Battlefield names become distant.
Our fallen are forgotten and taken for granted.
Days like Memorial Day are meant to remind us that the cost of freedom is higher than most are willing to pay.
Memorial Day is supposed to remind us that many have paid the cost.
Robbed of their youth.
Torn from loved ones.
Reduced to names on monuments and dates on headstones.
The second reason for days like Memorial Day is to celebrate the heroes.
Those celebrated are no longer here.
They aren’t here to march in parades.
Hear the speeches.
See and feel our love and respect.
Fortunately, they also miss our forgetfulness.
They don’t see us eating barbecue or watching fireworks.
Because they paid the price.
Like John Basilone, who won the Medal of Honor at Guadalcanal, and was guiding a tank on Iwo Jima.
When he paid the price.
Like David M. Gonzales, who was digging out fellow soldiers in the Philippines who had been buried in a bomb blast.
And paid the price.
Like Joe Hayashi, who was pursuing the enemy near Tendola, Italy.
And paid the price.
Like Jesse L. Brown, the naval aviator who provided air support to our troops at the Chosin Reservoir.
And paid the price.
Like John L. Bobo, who was fighting in Quang Tri Province, and kept fighting even though a mortar had already severed part of his right leg.
Until he paid the price.
Like Christopher Celiz, who stood in between a medevac helicopter and enemy fire in Afghanistan and enemy fire, and although wounded, forced the helicopter to take off without him to remove the other wounded soldiers.
And paid the price.
Like Alwyn Cashe, whose Bradley was hit by an IED in Iraq. He saved the lives of six of his fellow soldiers, even though he’d suffered second and third-degree burns.
He paid the price.
Like Michael Monsoor, who was fighting in Ramadi with his fellow SEALS when a grenade fell on his position, and he covered it with his body.
He paid the price.
So many other men and women have paid the price.
Yes, Memorial Day is for the living because we are still here.
And have to be reminded of the cost.
But the day wouldn’t be needed if it wasn’t for the heroes.
Those who paid the price.
Willingly.
Selflessly.
Sacrificially.
This day is also for them.
We need the reminder.
They deserve our recognition.
Our devotion.
Our eternal gratitude.