The following is an excerpt of a speech I gave at the LJB National Historical Park on Memorial Day a few years ago:
Memorial Day
Monday is Memorial Day. It's the day that we as a nation have set aside to honor those who have sacrificed their lives in the service of our country. Originally called Decoration Day, May 30th was first officially proclaimed in 1868, as a day to honor the Union dead from the Civil War. For many years, the former Confederate states recognized several different days, depending upon the state, to honor their Civil War dead. It wasn't until after World War I that the entire country recognized May 30th as a national Memorial Day. Beginning in 1971, Memorial Day was moved from May 30th to the last Monday in May to insure a three-day holiday weekend.
Unfortunately, over the years, we have largely lost the meaning of Memorial Day. It has become less about honoring the men and women who sacrificed their lives in war, and more about holiday sales, outings on the lake, the end of the school year and the beginning of the summer vacation season. Relatively few Americans give more than a passing thought to the men and women we are supposed to be honoring. Perhaps that is because most Americans have never personally known anyone who was killed in war. Nor have we seen the true horror of a war on our own soil since the Civil War, almost 150 years ago.
I first visited the Vietnam Memorial on a cold, damp, rainy day in November of 1982. It was a couple of weeks after its dedication. I was alone. Because of the weather there were few other people around. For the first time I was able to grieve for the friends that I had lost. I spent several hours standing in the cold rain searching that wall for their names. I refused to look in the index for the exact location. I had to find them on my own. I owed them that much. As I laboriously searched through line after line of names, memories of the friends with whom I had served in Vietnam and lost over there, came flooding back. I didn't have to dredge them up. They have never been far away. Slowly, one by one, I found them: Derick Chesebrough, Mike King, John Cushman, Larry Bonnell, George Ficklin, David Gray. And there were others both men with whom I had served and men I had known at Texas A&M. There were Bill McCarty, Bill Price, Tom Ralph, John Dougherty, Al Tijerina, George Gutierrez, George Hubler, Jose Santos so many friends lost so young.
In 1978, Eric Bogle wrote a song titled "The Green Fields of France." Some of you may be familiar with it. It's about a traveler who stops to rest next to the grave of a young British soldier named William McBride. Private McBride was killed in France in World War I. In the final verse, Mr. Bogle asks the ultimate question about any war and all war, and I quote:
And I can't help but wonder, now Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the pain,
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it's all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Yes, today is Memorial Day. It's the day that we as a nation have set aside to honor those who have sacrificed their lives in the service of our country. It's not about holiday sales; it's not about outings on the lake, it's not about the end of the school year or the beginning of the summer vacation season. It's about keeping alive the memory Deric and Mike and Larry, and all the other young men and women who paid the ultimate price in service to our country. To those of us who knew them, they will never be forgotten. In our memories, they will remain forever young. The least that we as a nation can do is to pause for just one day a year to remember them and honor their sacrifice.
Memorial Day
Monday is Memorial Day. It's the day that we as a nation have set aside to honor those who have sacrificed their lives in the service of our country. Originally called Decoration Day, May 30th was first officially proclaimed in 1868, as a day to honor the Union dead from the Civil War. For many years, the former Confederate states recognized several different days, depending upon the state, to honor their Civil War dead. It wasn't until after World War I that the entire country recognized May 30th as a national Memorial Day. Beginning in 1971, Memorial Day was moved from May 30th to the last Monday in May to insure a three-day holiday weekend.
Unfortunately, over the years, we have largely lost the meaning of Memorial Day. It has become less about honoring the men and women who sacrificed their lives in war, and more about holiday sales, outings on the lake, the end of the school year and the beginning of the summer vacation season. Relatively few Americans give more than a passing thought to the men and women we are supposed to be honoring. Perhaps that is because most Americans have never personally known anyone who was killed in war. Nor have we seen the true horror of a war on our own soil since the Civil War, almost 150 years ago.
I first visited the Vietnam Memorial on a cold, damp, rainy day in November of 1982. It was a couple of weeks after its dedication. I was alone. Because of the weather there were few other people around. For the first time I was able to grieve for the friends that I had lost. I spent several hours standing in the cold rain searching that wall for their names. I refused to look in the index for the exact location. I had to find them on my own. I owed them that much. As I laboriously searched through line after line of names, memories of the friends with whom I had served in Vietnam and lost over there, came flooding back. I didn't have to dredge them up. They have never been far away. Slowly, one by one, I found them: Derick Chesebrough, Mike King, John Cushman, Larry Bonnell, George Ficklin, David Gray. And there were others both men with whom I had served and men I had known at Texas A&M. There were Bill McCarty, Bill Price, Tom Ralph, John Dougherty, Al Tijerina, George Gutierrez, George Hubler, Jose Santos so many friends lost so young.
In 1978, Eric Bogle wrote a song titled "The Green Fields of France." Some of you may be familiar with it. It's about a traveler who stops to rest next to the grave of a young British soldier named William McBride. Private McBride was killed in France in World War I. In the final verse, Mr. Bogle asks the ultimate question about any war and all war, and I quote:
And I can't help but wonder, now Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the pain,
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it's all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Yes, today is Memorial Day. It's the day that we as a nation have set aside to honor those who have sacrificed their lives in the service of our country. It's not about holiday sales; it's not about outings on the lake, it's not about the end of the school year or the beginning of the summer vacation season. It's about keeping alive the memory Deric and Mike and Larry, and all the other young men and women who paid the ultimate price in service to our country. To those of us who knew them, they will never be forgotten. In our memories, they will remain forever young. The least that we as a nation can do is to pause for just one day a year to remember them and honor their sacrifice.
