Memorial Day.
I was invited to go to a BBQ today, steak 'n corn, hurray
!
"
Wear something Army!" my friends all said.
I called them early, 10am, and told them I could not come.
Used some lame excuse when I didn't have one.
I am
nothing but a Hep-C sick 51 y/o old Vet, I trashed my uniforms
in 1997, like the bug I didn't know I carried was busy trashing my liver.
For 20 years
had to wear them most days, no loss,
and one BDU shirt is all I kept. In a dark closet it still hangs.
Burnt all the rest in a 55-gallon steel barrel 1 week out
to lighten my physical and emotional load,
I regret that now.
I'm
no hero, I don't boast about deeds or that many
did
much better than me,
or tried. My civilian M8's could
not relate when I break into acronyms
still so natural
to me but PCS or DD214's are
long explanations for
folks who have never used them,
THANK GOD!
I seek out Vets who know me as well as I know them,
not by years of friendship, or kin, just because we share
a common bond, and they know the acronyms
as normal talk too, so at home I stayed. I won't be
put on a pedestal I am not worthy to step up onto.
Some call me a hermit, what I've seen and done
all over the world are stories probably best left untold.
Few would believe even 1/2 of the ones anyway, I sometimes don't!
But the plaques on my study wall don't lie, reminding me of
actions & times others wrote about me in their words, not mine.
My God I should be dead! Guess Lady Luck was watching my 6.
I searched the net for the right words to say to my
M8's
who I let down today, found them and they
follow below. Don't worry Luke: royalty free stuff
Thanks for the kinds words of
all here, but today I think
it's best I
duck the praise and just get on with living
out the rest of my days. It's Memorial Day 365 a year for
me when at night my dead troops 'come back' to visit
my tormented dreams. A siren 'puts me back' inside a 911 rig Code-3.
I can't even hear Taps played anymore, I sob like a kid and shiver inside.
Or a Huey with a red cross on the side flies by,
low & swift, [once 'my office' in the sky]
Fairchild AFB bound and my arms shoot up, a
fool, but like a
trained dog
that symbol
always meant: '
Land here!' for the dustoffs
so many I guided in over
so many years to L-Z's hot or helipads cold.
In shame I drop them to my side, reality hits, and I just feel
stupid for doing something my brain did not tell
my arms to do, instinctive training just busted on through.
Canis-Lupus
SFC, 91B40, U.S. Army (Ret)
Memorial Day
by Michelle R. Christman
As we stand here looking
At the flags upon these graves
Know these flags represent
A few of the true American brave
They fought for their Country
As man has through all of time
Except that these soldiers lying here
Fought for your country and mine
As we all are gathered here
To pay them our respect
Let's pass this word to others
It's what they would expect
I'm sure that they would do it
If it were me or you
To show we did not die in vein
But for the red, white and blue.
Let's pass on to our children
And to those who never knew
What these soldiers died for
It's the least we can do
Let's not forget their families
Great pain they had to bear
Losing a son, father or husband
They need to know we still care
No matter which war was fought
On the day that they died
I stand here looking at these flags
Filled with American pride.
So as the bugler plays out Taps
With its sweet and eerie sound
Pray for these soldiers lying here
In this sacred, hallowed ground.
Take home with you a sense of pride
You were here Memorial Day.
Celebrating the way Americans should
On this solemnest of days.