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Posted on 05/30/2005 6:46:25 AM PDT by snippy_about_it
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 are acknowledged, affirmed and commemorated.
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| Our Mission: The FReeper Foxhole is dedicated to Veterans of our Nation's military forces and to others who are affected in their relationships with Veterans. In the FReeper Foxhole, Veterans or their family members should feel free to address their specific circumstances or whatever issues concern them in an atmosphere of peace, understanding, brotherhood and support. The FReeper Foxhole hopes to share with it's readers an open forum where we can learn about and discuss military history, military news and other topics of concern or interest to our readers be they Veteran's, Current Duty or anyone interested in what we have to offer. If the Foxhole makes someone appreciate, even a little, what others have sacrificed for us, then it has accomplished one of it's missions. We hope the Foxhole in some small way helps us to remember and honor those who came before us.
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weblog Monday, May 31, 2004 Today is Memorial Day, remember? A lot of people died yesterday so you can be alive tomorrow. Remember that today. Unfortunately, a lot of Americans don’t do that. Or, at least, America doesn’t show it. Today’s holiday is gravely important — it’s about young people cutting their lives short to give something to their country. But turn on the television during Memorial Day Weekend: “IT’S A MEMORIAL BLOWOUT!” screams one mattress store ad. And there are plenty more. Every mattress store has said obnoxious ad, and so do grocery stores, department stores, hardware stores… you name it. What a shame this is. When September 11 rolls around this year, how would you feel to see a mattress ad with patriotic music blaring and flashy graphics declaring, “9/11 BLOWOUT SALE!” and an announcer screaming, “IT’S THE ANTI-TERROR EVENT OF THE SEASON”? (In 10 or 20 years, when enough time has passed since 9/11, I promise we’ll see those ads, and no one will be offended.) No better is a woman on the Macy’s commercial with claims like the holiday was “invented for shopping” or any of the other such ads. I would be much more willing to buy from a store that advertises with a quiet message urging Americans to always remember the veterans. A simple company logo, and that’s it. That’s respect. One of the phrases I hear a lot, starting the Friday before Memorial Day, is, “Happy Memorial Day Weekend!”. Well, what do you mean? Memorial Day is no happy day, and the weekend is not some event. This phrase is integrated into Americans’ view that the day is just a day off — a break from work and from life. People boast about their Memorial Day barbecues and Memorial Day parties. I’m not complaining about a day off. And I’m not condemning fun. But the tone of Memorial Day has been completely cheapened and changed. In other countries, streets are quiet and somber music is played. Where is this here, in a place where wars are so particularly pivotal and world-changing? Reflect in whatever way is important to you — but please, never forget. Andrew Phelps      |
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What I'll Be Doing For Memorial Day By James E. Leiker Memorial Day is a rough day for me. It's a day of remembering. Remembering can be curse when you've spent years trying to forget. It's even worse when you get mad at yourself for not being able to remember. It's strange that you forget so many things you want to remember and remember so much that you really want to forget. I spent 11 months, 28 days in sunny Southeast Asia. I came back physically whole. "No members missing" tag on this Marine. By the Grace of God, good training, and just plain pure dumb luck, I suffered no more than a slight hearing loss, a concussion or two, and 25 years of mixed-blessing memories. I've been a good husband to my wife, a lousy father to my two daughters, a mediocre son to my mother, and a reasonably successful employee to five employers over the years. With these results, I consider myself as doing better than the average bear when compared to many of my fellow veterans. The Grace of God and luck still abound. Memorial Day is not a day for self-evaluation or selfish thoughts. So I turn my remembrances to other people, places, and things. I remember heat. Heat that kept you from getting a full breath for weeks. Heat that sapped your strength so that you were beyond exhaustion after a minor exertion. Heat that made you tired and kept you from sleeping. Heat that made you sweat buckets. Heat that made you freezing cold at 70 degrees. I remember lush green mountains that always seemed to go up not down. I remember red earth that was sticky enough to glue a deuce and a half in place, slippery enough to make it impossible to stand on, and dusty enough to choke you into a coughing fit like a bad cigar. I remember rice paddies. They could get you killed or save your life. Dikes stop bullets but can leave you exposed if you're dumb enough to walk on them. The water smelled of feces but was better than not drinking at all. I remember rain. Rain that broke the intolerable heat then never stopped. Rain that was as gentle as silk or as stinging as a nest of bees. Rain that let you get a good clean shower and rotted your feet 'til they bled. I remember the sun. The sun that created the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets I've ever seen in my life. The sun that you couldn't look at...if you ever wanted to see again. The sun that you could feel without touching it. I remember a moon that shone so bright you could read a map by it. I remember moonlight dancing on foliage that made you see nothing one minute and imagine a host of slinking VC the next. I'll never forget the colors of an explosion close at hand. The white center bleeding out to a yellow ring surrounded by black rolling smoke was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. I remember the orange and green tracers dancing lazily through the night, while I prayed that none came to roost on me. But above all this, I remember people. Faces, personalities, and human events still crowd my days and nights with pleasure and pain. I can remember entire conversations and events in explicit detail. I cannot remember the names of more than a few, and I don't know why. Shouldn't this be the other way around? I remember the parting face of the Huey jock, who took an RPG in the nose 100 yards after he lifted off from leaving me in a clearing. I remember every detail of the guy who hung himself 2 weeks before he was going back to the world. I remember the guitar songs taught to me by the kid from Boston, who drove a jeep over a 105 shell buried on a dirt road and tripped the trap. I remember the quiet calm of the guy who told me he was sorry and assured me that I would be O.K. after he stepped on a mortar-round booby trap. All this while I held what was left of him in my arms, and we filled him with enough morphine to kill a horse because he was cut in half below the waist; and we knew he wouldn't survive the slick ride back to DaNang. Of the hundreds I knew, I kick myself for remembering so few. Especially on this Memorial Day when I should be able to remember each and every one. They are the ones who paid for this Memorial Day. This is their day. I will not spoil it by forgetting even one of their number. God help me, I will remember. From this day forth I will carry their memory and spirit with me as a living memorial to their sacrifice and dedication to God, country, duty, and honor. They shall not pass gently into the night as long as I have breath in my body to shout to the world... REMEMBER, REMEMBER...For God's sake Remember. Copyright © 1996 By James E. Leiker, All Rights Reserved
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On this day, I'd like to remember my father, a WWI veteran, my brother a Korean War veteran and all my fellow Marine Corps Viet Nam veterans who paid the ultimate price for freedom.
For Freedom is not Free!
God Bless them all.
May they Rest in Peace.
Semper Fi,
Kelly
"C" Company
1st Battalion
5th Marine Regiment
1st Marine Division
Viet Nam 1969 & 1970
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A soldier held in Japanese prison camps in World War II secretly painted stars and stripes on pilfered paper hidden from his captors, then held the flag up high to greet American planes flying overhead when his camp was liberated.
After returning home, Cpl. Millard Orsini consigned the object of his secret work to a closet. He rarely mentioned the war or the moldering flag, and died in 1978 from a heart attack. Read all about it.
Girl Scout Hannah McVey of Rosamond, Calif., takes a photo as her sister Caitlin adds a flag to the dozens surrounding a new grave, of Army Pfc. Samuel Sungjune Lee, who died in the Iraq war on March 28, 2005, during the traditional placement of flags in preparation for Memorial Day ceremonies at the Los Angeles National Cemetery Saturday, May 28, 2005. Hundreds of boy and girl scouts placed flags on each one of nearly 85,000 graves. Formal Memorial Day services will be held Monday, May 30. (AP Photo/Reed Saxon)
Love your tag. I had a conversation with a guy soliciting funds for the Minnesota GOP, and basically told him that.
A SOLDIER OF THE GREAT WAR: KNOWN UNTO GOD The cemetery was surrounded on three sides by stone panels bearing the names of 20,000 soldiers who fell in nearby battles. Imagining the loneliness of men dying in war and the anguish of families grieving at home was overpowering. There may be times in life when we feel forgotten and alone. Like the psalmist we cry out: "Will the Lord cast off forever? And will He be favorable no more? . . . Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up His tender mercies?" (Psalm 77:7,9). The psalmist's answer to feeling abandoned came in remembering all that God had done in the past, meditating on His wonderful work, and speaking of it to others (vv.11-12). In our darkest moments, we can remember the words of Jesus: "Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows" (Luke 12:6-7). We are never forgotten by God. —David McCasland
In Christ we can confide; We never need to feel alone— He's always at our side. —Sper In every desert of trial, God has an oasis of comfort.
Lonely But Never Alone Safe And Secure |
Today is Memorial Day. When we give tribute and remember those who've given the ultimate sacrifice in defending us, our country, Freedom.
I've been working studiously, for the first time in my life, avoiding reading the Memorial Day articles, and threads. Why? I've got this wound, which is healing, but is still there. He died in Fallujah last September. My next-door neighbor's child.
I've got soldiers "who came back" at my house, now. I just checked, they're up and awake. All of us are somber. We each wear KIA bracelets. Caught one staring out the window, he caught me and asked: "You okay?" I laughed and replied: "I'm as okay as YOU ARE!" We laughed a bit.
I've been avoiding going full bore into this Memorial Day, for the first time; and because the wounds which still pang over MY loss.
I come from a long line, both sides, of men who've fought and died for freedom. Some came back, and some didn't. And every year since my children were born, I've been taking them to Memorial Day events.
This year, I'm a bit shaky. Last night I watched a bit of Gary Seniece's Tribute to Our Fallen -- all I could do was 20 minutes before I was a near mess.
The President, in his speech, is so right:
In their hometowns, these soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines are more than names on a roll of honor. They were friends and neighbors, teachers and coaches, classmates and colleagues. Each was the most important person in someone's life; each had hopes for the future, and each left a place that can never be filled.
If I dwell upon my own recent loss, it hurts like crazy. I'll go into my hurt, a bit, have a visit with Mick. I'll remember that last time we were together, before he went off again. I was washing the car in the front yard, when a car drove up, and out popped Mick, coming straight over to me. I'll remember this once little child grown to taller than me. And so glad we were to see each other. He had run straight over to see me. Like all those times when he was a kid and telling me how fast he could run; and how well he was doing in school.
We caught up. He knew he could always count on me to not be bashful about what I thought, and saying what I thought. He knew I'd tell him how proud I was of him; and he'd reply in this nonchalant way as per Joe Friday: "Jest doin' my job, ma'am"." And we'd laugh.
I'll remember that hug as we parted, and his tallness now requiring my face to go straight into that niche between his shoulder and head, my face in his neck. And I remember so perfectly, his warmth and smell, and I can hear and remember the feel of his laughter, yet, rumbling in his throat and chest. And my pulling away saying: "Y'all come back now, ya hear!" And his reply: "Order accepted!" Well, his calling was greater than any order I could have given...
And quickly, then, I'll remember what he died for. And what he believed in. Then, I'm okay -- the tears and pain won't take me down and out. When I stay focused upon what he fought for, I'm okay.
Today, you will witness the stoicism and courage of those who've lost loved ones. You might wonder why they aren't falling apart, while remembering and giving tribute. I'll let you in on this secret:
It's because we are remembering what our loved ones fought for, what they believed in, and that they did what they did because they loved us and cared about us, believed in Freedom, and a civil world. And in this light, we are made whole and because we are joined with our departed in that love for our fellow man. We might cry a bit, but because we love that freedom so fiercely and we loved that our departed did too.
In the twinkling of an eye, all those departed, and all those remaining, whether or not they've personally lost loved ones in pursuit of freedom, will be joined, if only for a nanosecond in something greater than ourselves. We shall be transformed.
I can be in a crowd and tell who has lost a close soldier, and who hasn't. There's something in the eyes. And when that connection is made, there's a complete non-verbal communication which takes place, And it warms us. I have found myself in major, enveloping hugs with total strangers, over this matter. And in that brief moment, something big and important was added to each of us.
Where mere moments before we carried this lonely place of loss within ourselves, we were now made whole by a simple connection.
A connection of pure love.
So, yes, Memorial Day is here again. And my flag is out. And I'm ready to go; good to go. And I will look just like anyone else remembering and paying tribute.
And the tears will probably be lightly flowing down my cheeks when we get to that part about "ultimate sacrifice in defense of our country, our freedom".
And in that instant, I will not only see my neighbor, but all those in my ancestral line who died for freedom. And I will give homage and thanks to all those I didn't know past, present, and future who died for freedom from tyranny. And I will also see the faces of so many who did come back through several wars. I'll remember their characters and the things they said and did.
And the echoes of it all will fill the aching holes and heal the patches on my soul.
If ya go into Memorial Day thinking about yourself and your losses or someone else's loss; you'll be a mess.
If ya go into Memorial Day thinking about Love For Your Fellow Man -- you will be made whole. And you will join in with all those through thousands of years who gave their all in the name of pure love for their fellow man; their neighbor.
Memorial Day is our way of giving that love right back to those who died so that we might live in freedom, as imperfect as it comes in the mortal world.
My heart goes out to those with even more recent loss. Pulling the picture together for Memorial Day can be hard. For them, I pray strength, that they might rise on that bubble of love and be able to join in on the calvacade of warriors, live and dead, who yet march in the name of love for each other and freedom.
Freedom.
Long May She Wave.
Fomr EGC Southwest Oklahoma.
On This Day In History
Birthdates which occurred on May 30:
1220 Alexander Nevski [Aleksandr] Russian ruler (1252-63)
1524 Selîm II Sari the blonde, sultan of Turkey (1566-74)
1672 Peter I "the Great" Romanov tsar of Russia (1682-1725)
1800 Karl W Feuerbach German mathematician (Position of Feuerbach)
1812 John Alexander McClernand Major General (Union volunteers)
1830 Edward Winslow Hinks Brevet Major General (Union volunteers)
1832 George Doherty Johnston Brigadier General (Confederate Army)
1835 Alfred Austin Leeds England, poet laureate of England (Garden)
1846 Peter Carl Fabergé Russia, goldsmith/jeweler/egg maker
1867 Arthur Vining Davis Sharon MA, CEO (Alcoa-1910-57)
1896 Howard Hawks Goshen IN, director/producer (Rio Bravo, Scarface)
1902 Seton Howard Frederick Lloyd archaeologist
1908 Mel[vin Jerome] Blanc San Francisco CA, voice (Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd & Porky Pig)
1909 Benny Goodman Chicago IL, clarinetist/bandleader (King of Swing)
1912 Hugh Griffith Anglesey Wales, actor (Ben Hur, Mutiny on the Bounty, Oliver!)
1916 Dr Joseph W Kennedy scientist (1 of 4 discoverers of plutonium)
1926 Christine Jorgensen pioneer transsexual
1934 Alexei A Leonov Siberia USSR, cosmonaut (Voskhod II, Soyuz 19)
1936 Keir Dullea Cleveland OH, actor (2001, 2010, David & Lisa)
1939 Michael J Pollard Passaic NJ, actor (Bonnie & Clyde, Roxanne)
1943 Gale Sayers NFL running back (Chicago Bears)
1945 Meredith MacRae Houston TX, actress (Petticoat Junction, My 3 Sons)
1946 Candy Lightner political activist/founder (MADD)
1958 Michael E Lopez-Alegria Madrid Spain, US Navy Lieutenant Commander/astronaut (STS 73, sk 92)
1963 Helen Patricia Sharman Great Britain, cosmonaut (Soyuz TM-12)
1964 Wynonna [Christina Judd] Ashland KY, singer (Judds-Why Not Me, Love Can Build A Bridge)
1978 Krassmira Todorava Miss Bulgaria Universe (1997)
Good for you. I haven't had the opportunity yet.
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I believe that this is from either a memorial service or a burial at sea ceremony on the John F. Kennedy
Deepest Regards
alfa6 ;>}
I was David Bowman...
Thank you for sharing with us today Alia.
We are here for the very reason you take your children to Memorial Day services, to remember, to educate and most of all, to Never Forget.
Thank you Mike.
I'll be waiting on pins and needles to see how this turned out.
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While visiting a World War I military cemetery in France, I was struck by the number of grave markers bearing only these words: