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WHAT MEMORIAL DAY MEANS TO ME
By Paratrooper Nick Fondo

When I hear the words Memorial Day, I think of friends I once knew.
Friends and comrades I last saw on a foreign shore.
They came from all walks of life, some were rich, some were poor.
We were just Americans fighting side by side.

I think of the pain I see in my older brother's eye when on that rare occassion,
he will speak of another war on a different foreign shore.
My brother also will speak of men he once knew, as we walk through the graveyard.
He will stop, I notice as he gazes upon a gravestone, a tear starts to glisten in his eye.
I think of my Father-in-Law and of the pain that is reflected in his eyes, of the things that he has seen.
Like my brother and I, he also fought on a foreign shore.

I think of all the servicemen and women that have given all they could.
Of Bunker Hill, Little Big Horn, the Alamo, Gettysburg, San Juan Hill, Belleau Wood, Manila Bay, Guadalcanal,
Pork Chop Hill, Dak-To.
And I watch as OLD GLORY is carried on by, I feel a tear forming in my eye.

I Thank all the men and women, who have fought and died, to give me this freedom, that, I.., all, take for granted.
May God bless YOU, ONE and ALL!