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Date Posted: 23:15:06 05/24/15 Sun
Author: usmgrad
Subject: Repost - Lest We Forget

Title – May 2011 Challenge - Lest We Forget

Author – usmgrad

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters are the property of CBS Television, Paramount Studios and Bellisarius Productions. All rights reserved. No monetary gain will be realized from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Setting: Monday, May 29, 2006 one year after the coin toss


Today is Decoration Day; at least that’s what it was called in the United States after the Civil War, now it’s called Memorial Day. It is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation’s service. Over the years I have spent the day many different ways. When I was young, it was spent with family and friends at a picnic somewhere. There would be a parade and fireworks. When I became older I would help place flags by the headstones at the local military cemetery. As a Naval officer I have spent the day flying missions, overseas on board ship, away on an investigation or preparing for a court appearance. I was even once on board a submarine conducting a JAG man investigation. A few years ago I spent it with Mattie at The Mall in Washington DC visiting the various memorials to service men and women, the World War II Memorial, the Korean War Veterans Memorial, and The Vietnam Veterans Memorial (The Wall).

But the one year I will never forget is the year my mom and I spent the weekend with my grandmother in Pennsylvania. Mom was dating Frank but for some reason we visited Grams for that Memorial weekend. Being away from the military life for many years I guess you could say I was flirting with being a rebellious teen. I wasn’t bad, I knew I had to tow the line in order to get into the academy but I managed to “walk a thin line” a few times. I don’t remember what I said to my Grams that Saturday morning but whatever it was took her by surprise and upset her terribly. Her immediate reaction was a slap across my face. It was the only time I remember her raising a hand to me. She was so angry at what I said I was sure I was about to get a trip to the woodshed. Instead my Grams became very, very quiet. That’s when I knew I was in real trouble. Without saying a word she took me by the hand, escorted me out of the house and down the road to a small cemetery. I knew it was there but had never given it much attention. It was there in that family cemetery my Grams explained to me about service and sacrifice. She told me about my ancestors, how they each, in their own way, proudly served America. She reminded me why it was important to honor them, as well as all who served our country. I discovered I had ancestors that fought on both side of the Civil War. That my great grandfather, too young to fight, helped in his community during World War I. I learned how my grandfather, her husband, helped train pilots before World War II and was shot down in the Pacific during the waning days of the war. She even told me things about my dad I never knew. My grandmother set me straight that Memorial Day and I have never forgotten it.

This year for Memorial Day I’ve taken a trip into the past, to see and honor those who fought for my freedom. I crossed the English Channel this morning by ferry. The trip took about three hours. The entire time I couldn’t help but think about the soldiers who crossed these same waters over sixty years ago on their way to liberate Europe. I have been to Mulberry Harbour at Arromanches, one of the D-Day landing sites. I have walked Omaha Beach, where so many brave men fought and died. I read somewhere that the average age of the invading forces was twenty two. Many, too many never saw twenty three.

Now I am at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. This is where many of those brave men who stormed the beaches are buried. There is something about this place that has left me speechless. Peace and serenity surround the fields, but when the wind blows you can almost hear the German guns pounding down on the invading forces, the Allied commanders calling out their orders, a soldier’s cry for help, but then the wind dies down and the silence takes over.

There’s a poem that I remember from high school by Laurence Binyon called “For the Fallen”.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

I have picked up the mantle laid down by my fore fathers and serve my country with pride. I pray that if my life is taken while in the service of my country there will be another to take my place. That those who come after me will remember, not necessarily my name, but the fact that I was here and that I served, just as these men served and gave the ultimate sacrifice for their fellow man. I will remember. I will never forget.

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Replies:

[> Thanks for reposting this. It is the true meaning of Memorial Day. -- Beth, 01:11:51 05/26/15 Tue [1]

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[> [> Beautifully written usmgrad, we are tasked to keep this history alive so generations will 'never forget'. Thanks for reposting. -- JoyZ, 09:28:53 06/02/15 Tue [1]

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