Red poppies. Over one hundred years ago the world went to war. Tomorrow we remember those who died in World War One and all those who served our country on the field of battle. Far too many of those who fought for our freedom never returned. The poem Flander’s Fields speaks poignantly of the red poppies blowing in the breeze between the gravestones of the fallen of World War One.
In Europe, they celebrate Remembrance Day on November 11th, the day that World War One, the War to End All Wars, ended. We celebrate Veteran’s Day on November 11th, honoring all, living and dead, who served their country in war. The wearing of the red poppy has become more common in America as we honor those who died for our freedom.
Originally, we celebrated Memorial Day to remember all who died in service to their country and Veteran’s Day to commemorate both those who came home and those who didn’t but with a special emphasis on those who served and came home to us. Now, we don’t make much distinction between the two holidays as we remember all who served.
Twice a year isn’t nearly enough.
So very many had their lives cut short and far too many of them would never even be returned to the land for which they died. It’s easy to understand the sacrifice they made even as we struggle to fathom how they could have paid such a price for us. Perhaps it would be best if we went back to distinguishing between the two holidays. We too quickly forget that those who came home aren’t the same men we sent to war and many will struggle with the memories we can’t even imagine for the rest of their lives. It’s very hard to bring a man home from war whole. Whether in body or mind, sometimes both, a piece of him stays forever in war.
Don’t think that because we keep our women from the heat of battle that they don’t serve and that they don’t pay a high price, sometimes the ultimate price, for their service when women, too, put on the uniform and serve in war. Flirting with battle as they support those on the field comes with a heavy price. Heavier still is the price countless nurses have paid as they cared for the wounded and broken churned by the machine of war. You don’t need to hear bullets fly to die a little inside as you try to convince a nineteen year old that the loss of a leg is not the end.
Of all the stupid and morally wrong things the US has ever done, allowing her sons to return from Viet Nam to derision and distain ranks among the absolute worst. It took us nearly twenty years to realize what we’d done and begin to try and atone for it. Those men served in the worst rotation plan we’d ever come up with, spending twelve months in near continuous combat before being unceremoniously dumped back into civilian life. The intention was good, trying to make service easier by making it faster but the effect was devastating.
Our sons came home with varying degrees of what they now call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, most with serious problems. They came home to an angry country that couldn’t decide what it wanted to do or whether we should be fighting at all. Those decisions are OURS. They belong to We the People, and not to those who go where we send them to fight our fights. In anger and frustration, we took our fury out on our own sons who had only done what we asked of them.
The way we treated returning Viet Nam veterans must never be forgotten because it must never be repeated. To the credit of that flag we love and they serve, we have learned that lesson well. We’ve disagreed and fought over other wars fought in our name but never again have we turned on our own for doing what we asked, and paying the price.
We pay a tiny fraction of what we owe when we remember our veterans, living and dead. Make no mistake, freedom costs a whole lot more than we begin to understand.
Freedom requires service. Our Founding Fathers understood this. Our grandparents understood this all too well when the War to End All Wars had a Part Two less than twenty years later. It’s more than the ten guys behind the lines supporting the one in combat. It’s figuring out who to vote for and why then voting. It’s writing your congressman to have your say about whether or not we should commit to fighting. It’s boxing up a CARE package so a lonely kid knows that his country hasn’t forgotten him in the big machine of the military.
It’s being We the People just as seriously as we expect our military to professionally march into Hell and win our battles. This freedom thing is the most expensive thing in the world.
Remember when you thank those in uniform for their service and when you thank those that served for all they have done that you are just paying a tiny fraction of the price. Freedom ain’t free.
Thank you Ladies and Gentlemen of the United States Military Services, thank you one and all for your service. We can’t put it into words but your service means the world to us. Please accept our gratitude.
Happy Veteran’s Day.
