Memorial Day and What it Means

This Monday, May 30, is Memorial Day, our day we have set aside to remember all our wonderful and brave young men and women who have fought in our wars. I have decided to honor my father and uncle with this blog, because my dad fought with the Marines in two of the worst battles of World War II, and my uncle was a pilot in the Phillipines. Their names were Russell Wilken and Thomas Patrick Sneckner.  

In 1868, three years after the Civil War ended, they set aside a day when the graves of the Civil War dead would be decorated with flowers. Major Gen. John A. Logan declared "Decoration Day" should be May 30. By the end of the 19th century, Memorial Day ceremonies were being held on May 30 all over the country, with many states making it an official holiday. After World War I, Memorial Day was expanded to honor the dead of all American wars. In 1971, by an act of Congress, Memorial Day was scheduled on the last Monday in May and made a National holiday.

There is a beautiful Memorial Day ceremony every year at our National Cemetery at Jefferson Barracks, and if you have never gone, you should. And then take a walk around afterward. You will see where many of our veterans  are buried there. Take time to reflect on the young ones who were lost during the wars. They are the ones who have really lost their whole life...literally.

My father and my uncle are both buried there. My uncle was one of the young ones, who died during WWII. He was a pilot who was shot down in the Phillipines. My father, however lived to a ripe old age of 83. He fought during two of the most horrific battles ever. He fought at the battle of Peleliu (they landed Sept. 15, 1944), and also at the battle of Okinawa in April 1945.

The battle of Peleliu was 28 days of sheer terror: 9,000 Marines against 10,000 Japanese. I don't ever remember my Dad talking about the war...ever. I think that the horror of those two battles was just too hard to think about.

I had known that he fought at Okinawa for many years, but did not know about Peleliu, until after he died. My step-mother told me. After watching the show Pacific on HBO this past year, I now realize why he did not talk about the war.  One time, after he had Alzeheimer's, he had to be hospitalized. My mother called me and said I needed to come stay with him at the hospital while she ran home. He had woke up during the night, and saw a cleaning woman in his room. He had to be restrained, because he had become hystrical, shouting, "They are coming to kill me." I really think he was back during that horror-filled time in his mind.

In our "here and now," I think we are much more attuned to recognizing what it means to sacrifice your life for your country. Memorial Day is not just a time for grief; it is a time to celebrate peace and sacrifice. Take time this Memorial Day to reflect on the past and remember what the day is really for....and also to celebrate all our young people today, who are taking time out of their lives and serving in our Armed Forces. They are the reason we can celebrate this day.