People who are soldiers bring their fighting skills to the battle field foremost, but they also bring themselves. They are our talented children, our fathers, our sons, the members of our families. We have watched them, rejoiced in their efforts, achievements and their talents. We have experienced their love, their imprint on us. They bring this to the battlefield and when they fight, they are colored by their talents and their experiences. They follow their mission to the best of their training, their abilities and their strengths. When they achieve there, we do not always see it, know it, but we know them. We know their dedication, their personality, their desire to get the job done.
When they are lost, we do not see them as a number of those who sacrificed their life, we see them as our talented son, daughter, father, mother, cousin, friend, soldier. We see them as the individuals they were to us, and to their unit, to their victory of selfless sacrifice. We honor them, we honor them as no other could be honored. They are one of us, who were sent on our behalf, by those we gave that power to send to. We bear the responsibility of their loss, we feel that pain. We do not, cannot forget. In the human memory there is a place for those who before their time, gave their life for a reason greater then their own desires. If we have a consciousness against any present war or conflict where they have died, we take up the banner for them, to defend those who are at the command of who we have elected. We must and should become the second wave of warrior to help change the course of unnecessary bloodshed, but our caveat is this, to know what is necessary and what is not.
I am ever full of thanks for those who serve and I teach this respect to all I can reach. In an airport in Amsterdam, I thanked a former marine. In the place I get my haircut, I thanked a soldier there, when he said he was shipping out. I never forget when I see someone because I live in a state of sincere thankfulness for their sacrifice and service.
This is the song I grew up hearing, it was always playing on the radio, at the supermarket, everywhere, reminding everyone of the war, The Ballad of the Green Beret by SSGT Barry Sadler. It never played without my tears, one that escaped salty on my cheek, more sometimes, washing my face. As a child of WWII veterans, I had a closeness to the military, to the experience that was lost on some of the people my own age. I gave pause, I gave prayer, I felt, what perhaps was not political, but the brotherhood of it.
The concept of Red Friday was something introduced to me through social media. It is a way to honor those who serve and our serving today. You wear something red every Friday to show your support of our troops. Why confine remembrance to one day a year, for those who have served us through many wars and conflicts, who are with us both living and dead, who wore the badge of courage? We can just wear some bit of red, once a week, to remember.
You can find Red Friday on Face Book.
You Tube videos, Polk County Florida photo.
Copyright 2011 by SheilaTGTG55
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On another note, back from 15 + days of travel, great trip, lots of photos, experiences and volcanic ash interest....Hope to be on OS this week to read, report and share. In the mean time, have a safe holiday and remember those who serve. Happy Memorial Day Weekend.
They just did that magically, thank you Memorial Day Weekend wizards.
WELCOME BACK AND HUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGS
R
Dave: It was completely from the heart.
♥R
Rosy: Missed you too! I will be catching up and getting back in the swing.
Rated!