In Memoriam

Stop. Whatever it is you’re doing. Maybe you’re at a get-together, or barbecuing, or shopping at a blockbuster holiday sale, or just sitting back, watching a ballgame, and enjoying the tail end of a three-day weekend. Whatever it is, stop for a moment. Stop and reflect on the fact that, whatever it is you’re doing, it came to you at a price paid by others. And that’s not just something we say because someone designated today as Memorial Day. It is a very real statement of fact.

Today we say “thank you” to those brave people who cannot hear us say it because they went to war “over there” and never came back. We remember the nameless, faceless figures who fill the pages of our history books, people our battle paintings, and are portrayed in our war movies. They may be only a concept to us, but each was a real person, with feelings and dreams and families and, in most cases, most of their lives ahead of them. But they chose to risk all of that for their country. Someone has wisely pointed out that America, for all of its great military power and reach, has neither asked nor gotten anything in return for its sorrow except enough ground to bury her dead. We are now, whether we realize it or not, reaping the fruit of the labors of those long dead, who neither knew us nor had us in mind when they died; they were thinking only of those back home, whom they would never see again – a mother, a father, a sister, a brother, a spouse, a sweetheart, a best friend. We get to live the comparatively carefree lives they would have liked to have lived, in part because of their sacrifice.

Our generation is no stranger to armed conflict, and neither was our father’s, or our grandfather’s, or our great-grandfather’s. Perhaps you know someone who has gone off to war, and perhaps you know of one who did not come back. I myself have an ancestor, my great-grandmother’s brother, son of Slovak immigrants, who went back to the old continent to fight for the Allied cause in World War I. He was killed in a train accident just as he was coming back from the front when the war was over and won – a particularly tragic way to die in a theater filled with nothing but tragedy.

But there were other scenes no less tragic. Think of the soldier who falls on a live grenade to save his buddies. Think of the man who died charging up that hill which no one ever noted or long remembered, or ever knew why it was worth charging up. Think of the countless numbers who died swimming ashore at Normandy and never got to liberate France or the rest of tyranny-enslaved Europe. Think of those hundreds of thousands who died at the hands of their own countrymen in the Civil War. Think of those surprised by death at Pearl Harbor, or taken off-guard by a harmless-looking suicide bomber in Iraq or an invisible guerrilla in Vietnam.

We can shudder as we read numbers. Over half a million died in the Civil War. Almost that many died in World War II. America was in World War I for only a year and a half, but over 100,000 died there. And there are thousands and thousands more. But behind all of those numbers – each digit and each comma – there is a face, a real person who once lived and breathed like we all do today. We have each and every one of those individuals to thank, and as Abraham Lincoln said, we cannot ever repay those who gave the last full measure of devotion.

They did not die just for watermelons and hot dogs and volleyball and baseball and furniture sales and fireworks. They died for freedom. They stopped living so that we could continue to live by the ideal that all men are created equal and are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Without their sacrifice we might be in danger today of being thrown in prison for disagreeing with the government, or put on trial for something we wore, or killed for being Jewish or for worshipping God. We might be speaking another language or be occupied by a foreign power, were it not for the struggles of many on our behalf. It is not only we who give thanks today, but hopefully all the millions in the other countries for which American blood was and is shed.

You can go on now. Eat your watermelon – it won’t be cold much longer. Get back to your conversation or your friendly game. Un-mute your TV or continue with your bargain-hunting. I just wanted to make sure we all remembered what this day was really all about. On the face of it, all these things are free – but they’re really not. Somebody else paid for them. Freedom isn’t free. If we ever stop stopping now and then to remember that, I suppose we won’t be free anymore. Oh, and one more thing – if you’re reading this and you did come back from “over there” – thank you. Thank you for your service to our great nation.