Another Memorial Day has arrived, despite the peculiar circumstances of the pandemic. I hope you and your loved ones are safe and healthy.
Thankfully, some things become clearer with aging. Maybe it’s because we start to realize our own mortality and vulnerability. You begin to appreciate the sacrifice and courage of others more. When I was younger, I was caught up in the grandeur and successes of our military prowess as a Nation. We transitioned from a young, upstart nation that defeated the world’s most formidable military machine to a global superpower that emerged victorious in the Cold War, effortlessly navigating history as the rightful stewards of freedom and democracy. In my youth, I watched hundreds of war movies, knowing the outcome beforehand, to watch us win. My parents’ generation preferred not to discuss the difficult aspects of war, probably because they would rather not revisit them themselves. Instead, they went about their lives with a firmly cemented patriotism and a belief in the just cause of American exceptionalism. They went about their lives fulfilling their adult responsibilities and pursued the American Dream, steadfast in the belief that the alternative wasn’t acceptable.
Then, as our country navigated the course of modern history and geopolitical realities, it encountered some military and political challenges, leading to further complexity. Divisions began to form within families and across generations regarding what constituted a just cause for military action and who would bear the burden of action and responsibility. Victory wasn’t so easy to come by, and the cost-benefit analysis became more real to my adult mind. I started to realize the disproportionate costs that some families and socioeconomic groups bear. Moreover, these costs were often the result of flawed decisions by imperfect leaders.
While the morality of war became more complicated for me, it did help put things in perspective on a human level. My father and father-in-law served in the Marines, but my brothers and I did not serve. We didn’t have to. Those before us made this commitment optional. Instead of being at risk myself, I became focused on the sacrifices of others and started viewing things on a more granular, personal level. War movies now evoke a sense of sadness in me. I start thinking about how many young men (and now women) have given “the last full measure of their devotion,” as Lincoln described it. Grief and loss must have forever touched their families, leaving them never the same. I cannot imagine what it is like to have experienced what they went through.
The sad thing about viewing history simply through the lens of statistics is that it depersonalizes the loss of those who never came back from war or the many others who carry the burdens of ongoing physical and/or mental pain. According to Wikipedia, this has been the cost to our country thus far due to military engagement:
- Combat Deaths = 666,441 +
- Other Deaths = 673,929 +
- Wounded = 1,498,240 +
- Missing In Action = 40,031 +
In our young country’s history, we have lost or physically damaged almost three million soldiers. I am guessing that the emotional toll on many others who survived is equally substantial. And, I have no doubt these figures are undercounted. This is what Memorial Day is all about. I sit behind this desk today in historically unprecedented comfort and security because so many others put their own interests behind the patriotic cause of liberty and freedom. Yes, some were drafted and didn’t volunteer, but that doesn’t mean their sacrifice is any less meaningful.
Memorial Day 2020 marks a unique moment in American history. We are at war against a virus, and once again, people are sacrificing on our behalf (although not on a traditional battlefield). We are fortunate, yet again, that so few are willing to protect so many. We should never forget this!