Memorial Day

   I kind of feel ashamed of myself.  “Ashamed?” you say.  Yes.  With everything that I have been doing for the past month, I forgot what this weekend was/is.  I am a day late in remembering too.  This is Memorial Day Weekend.  For most people, its jut another holiday, a day off work, the start of the grilling season.  But to those of us, present and former, in the military, and for those with loved ones serving, it is more than that.  It is a day of remembrance of those that made the ultimate sacrifice for all of the freedoms we take for granted.  There were two things that I saw today that reminded me.  The first, an e-mail from Mother Biz, I show below:

Happy Memorial Day! I hope all the protesting didn't get you down too much. I saw all that crap on the news, pisses me off too. Anyway, thank you for what you do, you can never know how much it means to me and all the Americans that truely believe in what you do. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I hope you had a good weekend!

Mother Bizkit

  This kind of choked me up a little bit.  Here is this woman, who I have never even met, and the only thing we have in common is her son, Biz, thanking me for being a soldier.  And it was just me, in at least this e-mail, I was the only one it was addressed to, no mass send out.  I truly am touched when people tell me “Thank you.”  I don’t feel that I have done anything to really deserve a complete stranger thanking me.  

   She also was concerned that seeing, or hearing, about the protests occurring this weekend upset me.  Honestly, until she said something about it, I hadn’t heard anything, and still haven’t.  But people exercising a right that I guarantee to them by serving, doesn’t bother me, its expected.  Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and to express it.  That is one of the things that make America the greatest nation on earth.  And I am proud to stand up for your right to denigrate me.  Just don’t think you could get away with it to my face, or we may have, ahem, further discussions.  

   The other thing I saw was over on OpFor.  It’s a speech by former President Reagan (In my opinion, one of the greatest presidents we have ever had.) given at the 40th D-Day Anniversary, on the cliffs overlooking Omaha Beach.  I copied it and pasted it here, exactly as it appeared there, no alterations.  Most of this speech came from a man that was a private on D-Day, through his daughter.  And it shows some of how we (the military) feel about events such as these.    I don’t think a civilian can understand,.  Hell, I can’t understand something like this, I’m just a support soldier.  But, I do have an idea, I have lost friends in these two most recent wars.  So that does give me an idea of what PFC Zannatta feels, but only an idea.  While this is one of Reagan’s best speeches, what I really would like you to see are the last three sentences.  If we all do the first two, the third will come to pass.  Mr. President, I salute you.

(Again, this is lifted straight from the OpFor blog site.  Please pop over there and take a look around.)
We stand today at a place of battle, one that 40 years ago saw and felt the worst of war. Men bled and died here for a few feet of - or inches of sand, as bullets and shellfire cut through their ranks. About them, General Omar Bradley later said, "Every man who set foot on Omaha Beach that day was a hero."

Some who survived the battle of June 6, 1944, are here today. Others who hoped to return never did.

"Someday, Lis, I'll go back," said Private First Class Peter Robert Zannata, of the 37th Engineer Combat Battalion, and first assault wave to hit Omaha Beach. "I'll go back, and I'll see it all again. I'll see the beach, the barricades, and the graves."

Those words of Private Zanatta come to us from his daughter, Lisa Zanatta Henn, in a heart-rending story about the event her father spoke of so often. "In his words, the Normandy invasion would change his life forever," she said. She tells some of his stories of World War II but says of her father, "the story to end all stories was D-Day."

"He made me feel the fear of being on the boat waiting to land. I can smell the ocean and feel the sea sickness. I can see the looks on his fellow soldiers' faces-the fear, the anguish, the uncertainty of what lay ahead. And when they landed, I can feel the strength and courage of the men who took those first steps through the tide to what must have surely looked like instant death."

Private Zannata's daughter wrote to me, "I don't know how or why I can feel this emptiness, this fear, or this determination, but I do. Maybe it's the bond I had with my father. All I know is that it brings tears to my eyes to think about my father as a 20-year old boy having to face that beach."

The anniversary of D-Day was always special to her family. And like all the families of those who went to war, she describes how she came to realize her own father's survival was a miracle: "So many men died. I know that my father watched many of his friends be killed. I know that he must have died inside a little each time. But his explanation to me was, `You did what you had to do, and you kept on going."

When men like Private Zannata and all our Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy 40 years ago they came not as conquerors, but as liberators. When these troops swept across the French countryside and into the forests of Belgium and Luxembourg they came not to take, but to return what had been wrongfully seized. When our forces marched into Germany they came not to prey on a brave and defeated people, but to nurture the seeds of democracy among those who yearned to bee free again.

We salute them today. But, Mr. President [Francois Mitterand of France], we also salute those who, like yourself, were already engaging the enemy inside your beloved country-the French Resistance. Your valiant struggle for France did so much to cripple the enemy and spur the advance of the armies of liberation. The French Forces of the Interior will forever personify courage and national spirit. They will be a timeless inspiration to all who are free and to all who would be free.

Today, in their memory, and for all who fought here, we celebrate the triumph of democracy. We reaffirm the unity of democratic people who fought a war and then joined with the vanquished in a firm resolve to keep the peace.

From a terrible war we learned that unity made us invincible; now, in peace, that same unity makes us secure. We sought to bring all freedom-loving nations together in a community dedicated to the defense and preservation of our sacred values. Our alliance, forged in the crucible of war, tempered and shaped by the realities of the post-war world, has succeeded. In Europe, the threat has been contained, the peace has been kept.

Today, the living here assembled-officials, veterans, citizens-are a tribute to what was achieved here 40 years ago. This land is secure. We are free. These things are worth fighting and dying for.

Lisa Zannata Henn began her story by quoting her father, who promised that he would return to Normandy. She ended with a promise to her father, who died 8 years ago of cancer: "I'm going there, Dad, and I'll see the beaches and the barricades and the monuments. I'll see the graves, and I'll put flowers there just like you wanted to do. I'll never forget what you went through, Dad, nor will I let any one else forget. And, Dad, I'll always be proud."

Through the words of his loving daughter, who is here with us today, a D-Day veteran has shown us the meaning of this day far better than any President can. It is enough to say about Private Zannata and all the men of honor and courage who fought beside him four decades ago: We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will always be prepared, so we may always be free.

Thank you.

   I’m not going to do my usual sign off.  Instead, I just want to ask you remember, and if you know a service member, tell them “Thank You.”  You have no idea what it will mean to them.