Memorial Day 2007

If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you can read this in English, thank a veteran.


I saw something extraordinarily simple and beautiful Friday morning during a work trip. Looking out across the water while driving over the bridge by Parris Island, about a mile or so away in the distance I saw the giant American flag blowing in the morning breeze above the parade ground. It filled me with a sense of awe and a sense of pride. I feel a very special kinship with the men & women who serve this nation, for they are truly my brothers and sisters. I was once one of them, and we are all joined by a special bond of duty, honor, and country. Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine, cook, grunt, mechanic, tanker, supply clerk, truck driver, aviator, submariner, intel analyst, or medic, from lowly privates to lofty generals; I am you and you are me, and we are each other.

This weekend is Memorial Day Weekend. Unfortunately, to most Americans, this means nothing more than a long weekend full of beer and barbecue, sporting events and sleeping late. Corporate America thinks this weekend is nothing more than an excuse to hold sales on cars and shoes and pots and pans. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t relax and have fun this weekend; far from it. I have plans for fun myself, since Memorial Day weekend is also my birthday. But my revelry each year is also tempered by somber & sober reflection and remembrance of my comrades in arms who made the ultimate sacrifice, paying the price so that this nation, and other nations, could be free.

Earlier this week, yet another funeral was held at Arlington National Cemetery. Finally, after 54 years, John B. McGovern, known as “Earthquake Magoon”, was buried with full honors. He died on May 6, 1954 while his C-119 Flying Boxcar cargo plane was hit by ground fire while parachuting a howitzer to the besieged French garrison at Dien Bien Phu. Reportedly, as he was breaking apart & going down his last radio transmission was “I’m taking her in, boys". His remains were recovered from an unmarked grave in Laos in 2002, identified last year, and now he is finally at rest among his fellow warriors.

Still missing are two soldiers from the 10th Mountain Division, SPC Alex R. Jimenez, 25, of Lawrence, Mass., and PVT Byron W. Fouty, 19, of Waterford, Michigan. The search for them continues into its third week. Also missing, but seldom discussed, is SPC Matt Maupin, 21, an Army Reservist from Batavia, Ohio, who was captured on April 9, 2004 by Iraqi insurgents. You three are not forgotten.

As a former Military Policeman, I want to tip my hat and raise my glass to a fallen MP on this Memorial Day. PFC Sam Williams Huff was barely a year out of her prom dress and cap & gown when she was killed by a roadside bomb in Iraq on April 17, 2005. Sam turned down a modeling contract and put off college to enlist as an MP. At 18 years of age, Sam Huff was buried at Arlington.

Lastly, the Medal of Honor Museum opened this week aboard the USS Yorktown at Patriot’s Point. There were 42 of the 110 living Medal of Honor recipients on hand for the opening of the museum. I’ve had the honor and privilege to meet a couple Medal of Honor recipients in my lifetime, and it has always been a humbling and heartening experience. Skip going to see the world’s largest ball of twine; this landmark if far more important.

I leave you all, my comrades, with this poem, which I first read on a wall at the US Army Military Police School at Ft. McClellan, Alabama in 1988.

Soldier

I was that which others did not want to be.

I went where others feared to go and did what others failed to do.

I asked nothing from those who gave nothing and reluctantly accepted the thought of eternal loneliness...should I fail.

I have seen the face of terror; felt the stinging cold of fear; and enjoyed the sweet taste of a moments love.

I have cried, pained, and hoped...but most of all, I have lived times others would say were best forgotten.

At least someday, I will be able to say that I was proud of what I was...a Soldier.

George L. Skypeck

Them New Fangled Soldiers

Each successive generation of soldier, from the Revolutionary War on to Iraq, says that the new generation of soldier has it easier than they had it. When I went through Basic Training in January 1988, my instructors all said how easy we had it compared to when they went through. I look at today’s soldiers and find myself guilty of thinking some of the same thoughts on occasion. However, each successive generation also wants to view itself as tougher and meaner than the next in order to not feel so obsolete. But all it really boils down to is that as technology evolves, the tools of the trade change to ease the soldier’s burden a little. I’d like to make a few comparisons between The Baby Boomers, Gen-X, and what I’ll call Generation 911. The Boomers came of age during VietNam and just after it. I guess I fall into the Gen-X crowd, and Generation 911 came of age around the time of the 9/11 attacks.

When I went to Basic, my drills all said we were lucky because they could no longer strike us. Back when they went to training, their drill sergeants could, and would, give them a beatdown for infractions and failure to adapt. They weren’t even supposed to swear at us, though that rule was bent to the breaking point quite often. Now I’m told that trainees can pretty much call a Stress Time-Out if they feel too burdened by the mental demands of their training.

The Boomers were issued plain and uncomfortable black boots, olive drab utilities with brightly colored insignia, a steel canteen, and a steel pot helmet. My first helmet was a steel pot but I got a Kevlar Fritz when I got to my first unit. My boots were a newer version with speed-lacing and a better tread. I had a camouflaged utility uniform with subdued black & green insignia, and my canteen was plastic. Today the helmets have a built-in mount to hold night-vision goggles, the boots are no-shine rough leather, the uniforms have computer-designed patterns, angled pockets, and Velcro insignia-mounts, and the troops drink from a CamelBak.

The Boomers ate ham & lima bean C-rats, I had first-generation MRE’s with the dehydrated pork patty and Three Fingers of Death, and today the MRE’s are so advanced they actually taste good, with enchiladas and Kool-Aid. Boomers had the K-bar knife, I had an M-7 bayonet, and now there’s the M-9 bayonet that doubles as a wire cutter. Boomers had a shitty poncho made of rubberized canvas that smelled like vomit and let every other rain drop in. I had a 2-piece rain suit of rubberized canvas that smelled like vomit and kept all your body heat in so that the sweat made you wetter than the rain did. Now they have breathable Gore-Tex foul-weather gear that wicks away moisture. Instead of a shitty canvas shelter half that snapped together with your buddy’s half into a really lame pup tent that smelled like mold, now there’s a slick little tube tent.

The guys before me threw grenades or used an M-79 Bloop-Tube, and I launched grenades from an M-203 under my M-16. Now they just hose you down with a belt-fed Mk-19. The Boomers used binoculars, I could get intel from a scout helicopter, and now they fly a drone from 3000 miles away with a satellite feed. Boomers had a khaki dress uniform with brass insignia that had to be polished and leather dress shoes that had to be spit shined. I had a green polyester leisure suit with patent-leather shoes and gold insignia that could be wiped with Windex. Now the uniform has a belted jacket and you can get your awards as a thin plastic sheet instead of all those separate ribbons.

But the more things change, the more they stay the same. Each generation of soldier was represented by America’s best & brightest, idealistic young people from every race & religion, selflessly serving their nation in peace and war, doing impossible tasks for often ungrateful people in places no one wanted to go, and I’m proud to have been one of them.