I struggled between posting my usual Monday Excerpts, after all, I do have a release tomorrow. But my heart wasn’t in it. Instead, I’m going to discuss what Memorial Day means to me.
It has nothing to do with placing flags or flowers on gravestones or crosses, or other outward displays. It is deeply personal. During the 70’s when I was in the Army I participated in a joint German-American memorial day. It was a reminder that both sides lost many brave men and women. Years later, I visited Flanders Field and was startled by the number of crosses. I also visited Verdun, went through the preserved trenches, and saw mock-ups of whole villages that were decimated by war. Since then we have lost many more soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines, as well as others who served.
When one is in the military, death comes on a regular basis. It can occur in combat and in training accidents. One of the guys who introduced my husband and me died in El Salvador when his helicopter was shot down. It was a long time ago, but I still grieve for him. After all, if he hadn’t shove me toward my husband, and said, “She’d be happy to join you.” We would probably never gotten together.
Recently, several other old friends and soldiers have died. This time it was heart disease and cancer rather than enemy fire and parachute jumps.
Tomorrow, I’ll get back to book stuff. Today, I’ll give thanks for those who have lived and mourn those who never came home.
Ella
ellaquinnauthor
What a beautiful post, Ella. Thanks.
Thanks, Barbara. I hope you’re doing well.
Reblogged this on NEVA BROWN & BOOKS.
Thank you, Neva.
Appreciate your post. WWII raged during my early teens, a very impressionable age Young men, men who usually worked as cowboys, went to war and I became my dad’s cowboy–changed my life tremendously. Hard work, rationing, and search lights way out in the pastures with planes flying over carrying young bombardiers practicing to hit their targets linger in my memories.
So many have paid such a high price for our freedom. How I wish we could learn how to settle differences in a better way than killing each other.
I agree, Neva. In the Army we had a saying, Old men send young men to war.
Lovely post. I tweeted.
Thank you, Jenna. Romance Diva’s put my post for tomorrow up early, but I’m not going to share it until tomorrow.
Lovely, Ella. Thank you for the perspective and reminder 🙂
Thanks for stopping by, Jessi.
It’s good to be reminded. My parents had a home movie of me as a very young child watching the Nisei Regiment (27th? don’t remember) marching off to war from Hawaii–second generation Japanese Americans who chose to fight. They suffered some appalling level of casualties–70% or more–and to watch all those young faces with leis around their necks over their uniforms marching past (and me, a toddler, gawping at them) catches at my throat every time I see it, or, now, remember it. So many have died–and some are still dying–to maintain my comfortable way of life.
I agree. We need to remember.
Ella, thank you for the very moving post. My father, Sergeant Major Ralph Preston, served in the Marines in WW2. He was in the South Pacific on Guam and Guadalcanal. It’s good to remember.Now my godson’s older brother is a Battlefield Medic in the National Guard.
You’re welcome, James. My son was with the 173d Airborne in Iraq the first year we went in. I got to be his confident. It was a tough year.
Thanks for a wonderful post, Ella! We need these reminders more than once a year.
We spent a couple days this week at the Nimitz Museum of the Pacific War. It is worth the hour plus drive out from Austin or San Antonio to visit. Once weekend a month they do a Living History reenactment which we also attended and had the honor of meeting a WWII veteran who had served with MacArthur.
You’re welcome, Glenda. I’m glad you liked it. The Nimitz Museum sounds really interesting.