Memorial Day in perspective

We are at Memorial Day again. It used to be called Decoration Day, which was a day when folks would visit the cemetaries to decorate the graves of the war dead. But now we call it Memorial Day, probably with the intent of raising the level of appreciation for those who died in defense of their country.

Many times people confuse the day as a day to honor all veterans, people have served or who are serving, but that is not the case. We have a Veteran's Day for that purpose. We also have an Armed Forces Day. Both of these are for the purpose of paying honor to the living who served or are serving.

With regard to the cemetery, one last thought. Cemetery comes from a Greek word which meant the place where the dead sleep. That was a change long time ago from a term we called Grave Yard, which left out the idea that they only sleep but left the impression of a final resting place. Well, so much for that.

My brother is in New York today as I write and is participating in what is called Fleet Day. He and the family were going out to the museum piece now called the Intrepid. The Intrepid, now a museum, was once a fighting ship, a carrier, of our Navy. It was commissioned in 1943 but served its time a few years ago to become a museum, where the efforts of men at sea could be reflected upon. Reminds me of the USS Independence (pictured), where I served.

Back to Memorial Day. We have had countless thousands (well, they are counted, but I like that phrase) who have died in defense of our country, whatever we might have called that (I am thinking of the Civil War, where there were two countries offering up their sons to die.) We could list the number, and it would be staggering, of those who left home and never returned.

So Memorial Day is a day in which we give some thanks, some memory, for the sacrifice made. While we might sound a glory horn for them, it is not really that. They went at our order for the most part, and while many may have indeed gone knowing they might never return in the carrying out of their duty, many sure hoped to return home, and they did not.

We must appreciate all who have given so much in order that we might have the freedom we enjoy. Without that effort there is no telling what system we might live under today.

But we need to know that it was not all pleasure in which they served, those who came back and those who did not. I am reminded of a poem written by Winfred Owen (no relation) which probalby speaks more to the thought of the soldier, airman, seaman, Marine, on the field of battle. In my thinking Owen brings out the best way of saying Freedom is not Free. His poem ends "The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori," which is to say, "It is sweet and seemly to die for one's country" is a lie. The title to the poem is Dulce et decorum est.

As we memorialize on the Memorial Day, we must also understand what the sacrifice was - for those who served in Intrepid and those who fought on the battlefields so far from home.