It’s not about Veterans…

Memorial Day weekend is about those who cashed that blank check and gave their lives…

As you enjoy your three day weekend, take a moment and remember those who never made it back home.

And last, but not least, Ramirez…


It’s not about Veterans… — 15 Comments

  1. Thank you for your sacrifice for our country. Our condolences and prayers to the families who will be spending some time at cemitaries where their person(s) are interred. They are the lucky ones – some families have MIA and have no conclusive evidence of their condition.

  2. Hey Old NFO;

    Ramirez is the best cartoonist of all the ones that I use and Branco is second. You are correct Memorial Day is to honor those that as you so aptly put” cashed that blank check” and we have those in our lives. I honor my friends that I will meet on Fiddler Green one day and those that are my friends that I never met. We honor those on Memorial day. I got a flag etiquette guide that is on the scheduler thingie that will pop up on Sunday.

  3. I’ll be out Monday with my Legion Post recognizing those who didn’t return.

  4. I am one of those fortunate few to have no family connection to this day, thank God. All my serving ancestors managed to sneak by Death’s door, only to fall to death by chair, or disease or other mundane and perfectly civil deaths.

    My prayers are to all those lost. May their sacrifices be not in vain.

    • No, that survival is not a function on lottery tickets. I think I’ve won $5.00 in the last 10 years. And I play regularly at a buck, so I’m out like over a grand for a 5 dollar return.

      Part of the survival has been, quite frankly, luck at (after the Civ War) generations being born that don’t match up with the war cycles, being just too young or too old to make it. And lots of single children of single children (well actually not a lot of, which is an issue all unto itself.) And 4F status tossed in.

      Though having ancestors who survived the F&I wars, Rev War, 1812 war, Mex War, and Civ War, usually the full duration in one form or another, is lucky. So far my resistance to serious injury is holding hereditarily true, so there’s that.

      Only one service death in family history, and that was an unfortunate Death by Chair Falling Over in 1930 to 2nd Lt Gordon Cone, USMC (Class of 29.) So those old-wives’ tales of
      “Don’t tilt your chair back or you’ll die” are, unfortunately, true.

  5. My grandfather, born in 1876, served in the cavalry during the Spanish-American War. He apparently tried to enlist for WWI, but was turned away. My dad (and father-in-law) both served during Korea, and I during ‘Nam. None of us had to cash that check, for which I am forever grateful. Too many have paid the ultimate price, and I grow more humbled by their sacrifice with each passing year. Thank you for your service, sir.

  6. This is not new, but some here may not have seen it.

    The things they Carried….

    They carried P-38 can openers and heat tabs, watches and dog tags, insect repellent, gum, cigarettes, Zippo lighters, salt tablets, compress bandages, ponchos, Kool-Aid, two or three canteens of water, iodine tablets, sterno, LRRP- rations, and C-rations stuffed in socks. They carried standard fatigues, jungle boots, bush hats, flak jackets and steel pots. They carried the M-16 assault rifle. They carried trip flares and Claymore mines, M-60 machine guns, the M-70 grenade launcher, M-14’s, CAR-15’s, Stoners, Swedish K’s, 66mm Laws, shotguns, .45 caliber pistols, silencers, the sound of bullets, rockets, and choppers, and sometimes the sound of silence. They carried C-4 plastic explosives, an assortment of hand grenades, PRC-25 radios, knives and machetes. Some carried napalm, CBU’s and large bombs; some risked their lives to rescue others. Some escaped the fear, but dealt with the death and damage. Some made very hard decisions, and some just tried to survive. They carried malaria, dysentery, ringworm, jungle rot and leaches. They carried the land itself as it hardened on their boots.

    They carried stationery, pencils, and pictures of their loved ones – real and imagined. They carried love for people in the real world and love for one another. And sometimes they disguised that love: “Don’t mean nothin’! “They carried memories. For the most part, they carried themselves with poise and a kind of dignity. Now and then, there were times when panic set in, and people squealed or wanted to, but couldn’t; when they twitched and made moaning sounds and covered their heads and said “Dear God” and hugged the earth and fired their weapons blindly and cringed and begged for the noise to stop and went wild and made stupid promises to themselves and God and their parents, hoping not to die. They carried the traditions of the United States Military, and memories and images of those who served before them. They carried grief, terror, longing and their reputations. They carried the soldier’s greatest fear: the embarrassment of dishonor. They crawled into tunnels, walked point, and advanced under fire, so as not to die of embarrassment. They were afraid of dying, but too afraid to show it. They carried the emotional baggage of men and women who might die at any moment. They carried the weight of the world.


  7. RIP Uncle Paul. KIA 13 Nov. 1942. USS Juneau.
    By God’s mercy Grandad made it home from France, Dad from the Pacific, and brothers from Nam.

  8. My first Memorial Day in five years that I haven’t been on the Iowa helping with something.

    Thank you all for your service, and God Bless The USA!