Memorial Day

[August]

This is the day when we commemorate, not those who are serving or those who have served. There are other days for that. Today we commemorate those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our country and our freedom. But those who knew them need no government sanctioned day for that. It is in their hearts.

I share with permission a letter a friend of mine had written about Memorial day:

Why Memorial Day Is Not Special For Me.

That sounds sort of irreverent and anti-American does it not? But let me explain.

Don Cornet and I went to McNeese State College together. Although in rival fraternities we were good friends and served on the intra fraternity council together. During the school year I usually saw Don every day. He was special, a natural born leader. He normally got elected president of any organization to which he belonged. He was the ROTC Corps Commander, graduated and was commissioned a year ahead of me. He was one of the truly good guys. He died in the Ia Drang Valley near LZ Albany when the NVA overran his company.

Walt Bernreuther, Joe Holland, and I were in Korea together. We were all green as grass Infantry 2d Lts. assigned to the 2d Infantry Division up on the Imjin river. Walt was from somewhere in California and was my hoochmate. He usually had a chipmunk style grin on his face and could always find the humor in any situation, even when we were freezing off our collective asses. Many evenings Joe, Walt and I would adjourn to the hooch and contemplate the nature of the army and the universe over a bottle of scotch. Joe was from Connecticut and was probably one of the first “Yankees” I truly called friend. I lost track of them when we left Korea, but, as the song goes, “I always thought I would see you again”. I heard somewhat later they both had been killed in action. For years I refused to look for their names among those on the Wall. I finally did. They were there.

Doug Fournet was another McNeese Cowboy. We shared the same beer (sometimes cheap wine), chased the same girls and hunted the same ducks. In intramural flag football we played on rival teams. He split my lip…I bloodied his nose. For reasons unknown to most of us, Doug left school and eventually ended up in the Ft. Benning School for Boys. He received his commission and shortly after joined the 1st Cav in Vietnam. Doug won the Medal of Honor by throwing himself on a chicom claymore in the Ah Shau Valley. His wife was living in the same apartment complex in Lake Charles where I had placed my wife and 3 month old son. I was on leave there en route to the 1st Cav when the notification of his death came.

Bill LaPlant was a blond headed guy from Minneapolis. He was in my mortar platoon and usually carried a base plate. As the mortars almost always set up next to the company command post, I saw Bill a lot. When he found out that I was a Dallas Cowboys fan it brightened his existence. He was a rabid Vikings fan. In the evenings, after the mortar pit was dug and the perimeter secured, we had many good natured, though usually profane, exchanges on the subject of pro football. Bill stepped on an 82 mm booby trap. The blast knocked me down. It shredded Bill. I helped load his body into the chopper.

Benny Guy was from Alabama. A graduate of Infantry OCS he was, for a short while, one of my platoon leaders. He was a good platoon leader. His men became fiercely loyal to him and he took care of them. The last time I talked to him we were fighting our way through a bunker complex with his platoon in the lead. I told him, “Benny, I can hear you hollering orders and so can the bad guys. Be careful or they will single you out”. He headed back to his platoon and, in the heat of the fight, once again began to shout orders. The bad guys did hear him. They singled him out and they killed him with two shots from an SKS.

Henry Szorr was out of place and in the wrong place at the wrong time. Henry was a Polish national who got caught in the draft when his student visa ran out. I always thought that was a bit of a nasty trick on the part of our government. Henry was Jewish and if there was ever someone who personified “go figure” it was he. He acted as if being in Vietnam was a great practical joke played on him. Never bitter, he accepted the service thrust on him and just tried to get along. Henry’s tour ended when he stepped into a fire tunnel and was cut down by an RPD machine gun. It wasn’t a particularly heroic death and he didn’t die alone. I have always felt bad about Henry.

Marion Hughes was a Marylander. He was one of the almost faceless grunts in the company. An average soldier, he was never in trouble, always doing what was expected of him and blending in with the rest of the guys. That was up until the day when we were pinned down and he deliberately exposed himself to draw enemy fire away from his wounded buddies. By his unselfish gesture that day he saved three lives but at the cost of his own. It would seem that he was much more than an average soldier.

There are others, sadly many others, but this is running a little long, so to the point. Why isn’t Memorial Day special to me? It is because these people accompany me every day of my life, tugging at the edges of my memory. Sometimes things like the smell of diesel exhaust on a hot day, the sound of a Huey passing overhead or the sight of a tree line shimmering in the heat across a grassy field can bring them back vividly. But whether they are in the forefront of my consciousness or on the misty edge, they are always there and will always be there. That is why Memorial Day is not special to me. I don’t need a special day set aside to remember them. I do it every day.

[fireftr18]

There are not enough "Thank you's," for those who sacrificed themselves for our freedom and safety.

[Red October1984]

Love him or hate him, but Mat Best hits the nail on the head for me.





He has a hand in Black Rifle Coffee Company, which continues to get my business month after month because of their support of the US Military and our veterans.






Taking up the profession of arms isn't for everybody, but to those who have done it, regardless of nationality or creed, brothers and sisters in arms, thank you.

Those that have paid the price, we remember.

[Kptlt. Neuerburg]

[HW3]

[Jimbuna]

~SALUTE~

[Commander Wallace]

Happy memorial day to all those who have answered the call.

[Skybird]

The fruits we living enjoy today, where planted in the past, at high costs for all. Thank you for that. Many younger Germans take things of the present for granted. I don't.

[Jimbuna]

[Commander Wallace]

[Kptlt. Neuerburg]

[Skybird]

Sometimes its the big numbers that leaves you speechless. Sometimes its the single case.

The following is about Kurt Keller, probably the last still living german witness of the events.

At the age of 92, the man once again traveled to the beach in France where he had to fight as a young man. Which his enemies of then called "Omaha Beach". Kurt K. Keller from Homburg in Saarland returns to the village on Omaha Beach, to Saint-Laurent-sur-Mer, to Normandy.

In 2018 they raised the German flag in his honor. Right on the memorial of the Allies, on the beach of death. What an award! And this is where so far always only the British, American, Canadian and French flags had blown.

Five years ago Kurt Keller and I, the author of the book "Century Witnesses", set out on this journey of his life. And everything seemed so present then.

Hardly that he had arrived. all he had to do was close his eyes, and the journey through time began. He saw everyone again, the dead and the survivors. "I feel again how the earth shakes under my feet." When Kurt Keller closes his eyes today, he also sees this one soldier standing in front of him. This GI, who had made it almost all the way up Omaha Beach. "I can see him running towards the cliffs and directly to me," says Keller. On the hill Kurt Keller is crouching in his position with his carbine. The Wehrmacht soldier shoots the GI and hits him in the chest.

What happens now has taken root in Keller's soul. It is a picture that he carries throughout his life. "Then this American soldier sinks to his knees," Keller remembers. "He takes his submachine gun in both hands, his arms outstretched." It almost seems as if he wants to give his weapon to someone. Then he puts it in front of him in the sand. He takes off his helmet, puts it in the sand and folds his hands. Now he throws his head back and looks up to the sky. Until he collapses.

Keller's voice breaks. It's as if the American soldier had traveled with him into the past. He says, "When I saw this man praying to Heaven one last time, that was a turning point in my life for me, and I asked myself: How can one be so pious that one still prays in the last seconds of his life? ? " Keller had until then believed only in Adolf Hitler. But when he saw this soldier turning to God in dying, something in him changed.

It was not the thousands upon thousands of people who touched him like this. It was this one soldier. "He changed my life."




https://translate.google.de/translat...d_9043992.html

Krieg ist immer Scheiße. Sein Pathos ist immer ein Verbrechen.

Sometimes we cannot escape it. But we must never allow to fall for the lies.

[Catfish]

^ impressive..

A "Spiegel" comment on D-Day (one of a lot), Google translation:
https://translate.google.com/transla...a-1270724.html

You hear differing numbers of the invasion in the radio here, one speaker talked of ten thousand allied soldiers.. i guess he mistook it with the number of the ships

[Mr Quatro]

It was not the thousands upon thousands of people who touched him like this. It was this one soldier. "He changed my life."

Same here it wasn't the thousands and thousands of Christians that changed my life it was just one man 'Jesus'

Jesus found me in the junk yard of life
and now He has my pink slip

[Sailor Steve]

So you want to turn a thread commemorating D-Day into a religious argument? I know you don't mean to start an argument, but if you can use it to preach your religion so can anyone else. Muslims? Jews? Buddhists? Hindus? Atheists? All these, and many more, fought to save the world from tyranny, and all had adherents who died for the cause of Freedom. I find preaching in a thread like this to be highly inappropriate.