"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields." John McCrae
My feet have never stood on the battlefields of France, nor have my eyes seen what once was waste and destruction but now are fields sleeping peacefully in the morning light. My ears have never heard the rumble of cannon, the shrill scream of shells, nor the piteous cries of dying young men. My hands have never comforted the wounded, ministered to the dying, nor buried the dead. And yet I have lived each day of my life reveling in the glorious freedom purchased by those who made the ultimate sacrifice on the battlefields of Verdun, the Somme, Normandy, Omaha Beach, the Pacific Theater, Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Kuwait, Iraq, Afghanistan, and other ground hallowed by blood. Today my heart swells in gratitude for those willing to offer their lives in exchange for my freedom and the freedom of those around the world who long for liberty from bondage. Indeed, I should live each day of my life with humble thanks for the men and women who readily risk their lives to preserve the freedom I cherish and stand vigilant against all threats to life, liberty, and human dignity. Today many businesses in our nation are offering free goods and services to the men and women of our military. While I applaud these generous gestures, I wish that as a nation, we showed this kind of gratitude every day for our soldiers past and present. Veterans and current men and women in uniform should always garner our respect and thanks, not just on one or two days of the year.
I once asked my dad why he chose to enlist in the military at the height of the Vietnam conflict. He told me that while in the Catholic seminary, he heard of the thousands of people fleeing North Vietnam because they valued their freedom of worship more than their homes and livelihood. He said that no one had the right to dictate what a person believed or how they worshipped, and that he was willing to fight to preserve that right.
My mother's father Stan lied about his age and joined the Navy at age 17 to serve in North Africa and Corsica repairing PT boats, then served on a troop transport in the Korean War. Grandpa's memory of his experience in the Navy was so keen and so detailed that I could tell it was a highlight in his life. Maybe not quite as cherished as his memories with my grandma, but still a wonderful and adventurous part of his life that he was always proud of. Only after Grandpa passed away did we discover that he served in the Navy under the command of John Fitzgerald Kennedy.
My father's dad Pat and stepdad Tom served as "cannon-cockers" in the field artillery with the Army and met each other on a troop transport leaving the South Pacific, and my stepdad's stepdad Bud also served honorably in the Navy during World War II. How I wish I knew more about their service and experiences! I know that at times it was terribly frightening, but like the good men of their generation, they answered the call of their country and defended freedom in the Pacific Theater.
We live in a postmodern world, where it seems that all concepts and ideas are equally deserving of our attention, tolerance, and even approbation, where -isms exist only in history books or as shadows of their former selves, menacing only because they threaten to corner the global economy, and where the standards of right and wrong are as malleable as Play-Doh. Comfortable in our plastic, sanitary existence, we recognize the evils of fascism, Communism, and totalitarianism only as backdrops for awesome movies like "Saving Private Ryan" and "Band of Brothers." And yet today we pause and remember those who recognized the greatest threats to the modern world, embodied in the dictatorships of Hitler's Nazi Germany, Mussolini's fascist Italy, Stalin's Soviet Union, and the evils of creeping Communism in the Cold War. To these brave men and women, freedom was precious enough that they offered their very lives in exchange for the hope of liberty for the oppressed and safety for the threatened. May we forever honor their sacrifice and dedication and live in gratitude for those who stand vigilant still, ready to defend our God-granted freedoms in the face of danger.
2 comments:
Excellent post! I HAVE stood on the battlefields of France, but even I couldn't have said it better. :)
I'll have to send you the poem I read at the entrance to the trenches at the Somme--it's amazing. I wanted to post it yesterday but ran out of time.
And, uh...I think Grandpa Pat was in the army. I'm nearly certain about that!
Ooh, thanks Meg! I'll ask Dad and correct my post post-haste. (Tee hee.) I wrote that first part for you, knowing you HAVE stood on that hallowed ground. Love ya!
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