Memorial Day. For some, it is the mark of the beginning of Summer, of barbecue season, if you will. As kid, I thought of it in those terms. Now as an adult, I am looking at it in other ways.
I woke up this morning thinking of the poem "In Flanders Fields, the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row" It was written by a surgeon who was in the trenches of WWI, aka "the War to end all Wars", noble thought , that. Sadly we still have wars and WWII was even worse. The poppy became the symbol of veterans of those conflicts, you don't see them so much these days. The Viet Nam vets, in particular, don't wear their service as a badge of honor and it's a shame. I hated the war, but try to honor those who fought. They were not to blame for our involvement. Politics.
But as usual, I digress.
I want to think about those who fought for this country, who were wounded either physically or emotionally. You cannot see the terrible cost of war and not be changed. A lot of vets came home and tried to pretend like nothing happened, that they were tough. They were tough, but still it cannot be easy. My Dad was a veteran of the Battle of the Bulge. He was attached to the Medical Corps and he told me a few stories about that time. I remember he told me about a German soldier, a boy, he said about eighteen who had lost his arm and was in Allied custody. He said the boy was sitting, unmoving. My father gently told him that the war was over for him. Th boy looked at his missing arm and a tear slid down his face . My father told him "Das ist Kreig" ( That is war) My father also told me about not having enough blankets for the wounded and how they took the blankets covering the dead. He said at first it felt wrong, but then realized that the dead wouldn't care.
On this day, I will strive to remember the sacrifices made for me and for future generations, by those who fought and died and by those who fought and lived. I wonder if there is a place I can buy a paper remembrance poppy.
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