I certainly wouldn’t begrudge someone a life of ease, but I wonder
sometimes if we’ve been lulled into a state of complacency that numbs just enough
to keep us from moving to any kind of response.
We move in a routine that would make Pavlov jealous, salivating for the
next shiny object – unaware, unconcerned, or convinced that we’re somehow
entitled. I’ve struggled with bigots, bumper-sticker patriots, and politicians
who perpetuate their own version of a myth of hypocrisy, but the frustration I
experience I can only relate to others who share my sense of idealism. And of
course, idealism is fraught with its own shortcomings as well, I fully
recognize!
I’ve been trying to reconcile how so many of us glibly go about
our daily lives without giving a second thought to something as grave as
Memorial Day. The day that was established to remember and honor our war dead
has been essentially reduced to the day demarking the beginning of the summer
vacation season. It’s now officially OK to wear white, to go to the pool, to throw
a steak on the barbecue, or to take the kidlins to Disneyland. Now, again, none
of these things are wrong, of course. It’s just that like the suburban cocoon
we’ve constructed around ourselves, we’ve conveniently put the proverbial
blood, sweat, and tears out of our consciousness and relegated our patriotism
to a car magnet that says something about supporting our troops. For the low,
low price of a car magnet, we can assuage any guilt we have for our life of
ease and we can just pull the thing off when we want…or we can put something on
our Facebook page for free. Convenience abounds!
I raised my hand and took my oath of office as a commissioned
officer during the Cold War. We played global footsy with the Soviets and their
satellites, never knowing if the ‘bubble would go up’ and start another world
war. When Mr. Gorbichev tore down the
Berlin Wall and ushered in a new period of uneasy peace we came to know as Glasnost and Perestroika, some new challenges
presented themselves. I remember some hairy periods on active duty which
included a deployment to the former Yugoslavian republics in the early 1990s.
My battle group was headed toward the Suez Canal to join the folks in the
Persian Gulf, but was turned back at the last minute when things ended. I can’t say that I was disappointed about that,
but like any other veteran, I wrote a blank check to the government – your government – that essentially said
that it could cash it up to and including the value of my life if need be over
the course of my eighteen years in uniform. Because I’m writing this little
missive today, the amount of that check wasn’t fully cashed, but there are tens
of thousands of soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines who did, in fact, endorse
that check. And they are the ones that I think about today.
I’ll admit I’ve never been to a veteran’s cemetery to lay a wreath
or do anything we might otherwise consider traditional on a day like today, but
as I’ve been taken care of by the Veteran’s Health Care System, those years in
uniform are being lauded regularly by everyone I meet and it’s a sobering, humbling
privilege I finally am faced with. Up to
this point, I shrugged it off as something akin to “Aw shucks, ma’am, I was
just doin’ my job.” And honestly, I quite often reminisce back on those heady
days in the cockpit, on the bridge of a warship, or in the blue lights of the Combat Information Center
for the Destroyer Squadron as a rush. It was exciting. It is what I was meant to do. Bravado aside, it’s no less
a calling than so many other
professions.
Now that I’ve been out of uniform since 1999, I see the military
for what it is – a privilege to serve. Perhaps the term, serve, isn’t in vogue, but service is exactly what it is. It’s
tough, gritty, and demanding with lifelong rewards...and lifelong fallout. I have lost Naval Academy classmates to war and acts of terrorism and to aircraft
crashes; I have friends and family who have borne the scars, both physically and mentally
from combat experiences; and while there’s a pretty well-established link between
cancer and radiation and certain chemicals, I’d do it over again. It’s what I
was meant to do and from what I can tell from talking with many other veterans,
there’s a shared camaraderie in that. It’s obviously not universal and when you’re
in the thick of it, precious few of us are thinking lofty thoughts about
service, but that 20/20 hindsight kicks in somewhere along the way.
I don’t want to be the buzz kill of the Memorial Day party and I
wouldn’t want to tell someone to feel something they don’t, but my hope for our
troops on the front lines is that they come home as soon as possible; that we
as Americans stateside never, ever
forget the sacrifice they’re making regardless of how we feel politically about
our involvement overseas. For our war dead, may the memories of their lives be
honored by us all as a nation, community, and neighbor, taking care of their
families and in celebrating their lives, may we lift a glass in their salute
and as a friend of mine puts it, “live the dream.” How better to prove a life
well lived and given than to prove that it wasn’t offered in vain!
Today’s music – I Remember You by Nat King Cole
Was it in
Tahiti?
Were we on the Nile?
Long, long ago, say an hour or so
I recall that I saw your smileI remember you
You're the one who made
My dreams come true
A few kisses ago
I remember you
You're the one who said
"I love you, too, I do"
Didn't you know?
I remember too
A distant bell
And stars that fell like rain
Out of the blue
When my life is through
And the angels ask me to recall
The thrill of them all
Then I shall tell them
I remember you
Were we on the Nile?
Long, long ago, say an hour or so
I recall that I saw your smileI remember you
You're the one who made
My dreams come true
A few kisses ago
I remember you
You're the one who said
"I love you, too, I do"
Didn't you know?
I remember too
A distant bell
And stars that fell like rain
Out of the blue
When my life is through
And the angels ask me to recall
The thrill of them all
Then I shall tell them
I remember you
No comments:
Post a Comment