Memories of Heroes I've Known

I had to run  a few errands this morning and happened to be wearing an old Navy ballcap. When I entered the local hardware store, the young lady who greeted me said, "Thank you for your service, especially today on Memorial Day." And when I went to the check-out area, another young woman said pretty much the same thing. Now, I realize they were being wonderfully patriotic and were also expressing thanks for the years I spent in the Navy, so I just smiled and said, "Thanks. But today remember those who didn't return."

Today, Memorial Day, is not a day to honor veterans. We do that in November. And it's not a day to express delight in a three-day weekend or the opportunity to welcome the coming of summer by rolling out the barbeque grill. Memorial Day is a day of remembrance, a day to honor some very special people: men and women who sacrificed their lives in the defense of our nation and its sovereign citizenry. In fact, I've never been happy with the decision by Congress back in 1968 to move Memorial Day from May 30 to the last Monday of May. Making a three-day weekend out of what should truly be a sacred day -- a secular holy day, if you like -- just seemed to de-emphasize its meaning, to water it down. 

I'd like to think that for most Americans Memorial Day is also a day of prayer, a day in which we offer prayers of thanksgiving for the gift of these heroes. Because that's what they are. They are God's gift to the rest of us, for through their sacrifice we continue to reap and share the bounty of this unique nation. God has certainly blessed us and it's so very sad to see so many today who, through remarkable ignorance, despise the nation founded on the principles that enable them to express their hatred publicly without fear of retribution.  

Today I remember many men I knew and some few whom I counted among my friends. Most were Naval Academy classmates (Class of 1967) who lost their lives in Vietnam or during training in preparation for combat. I count the following among my friends. If you click on their names, you can read their stories. 

Henry Wright, 21, a dedicated Marine officer, the first of our classmates to lose his life in Vietnam on February 6, 1968. 

Hal Castle, 23, a fellow helicopter pilot, shot down in South Vietnam.

Bart Creed, 25, an A-7 pilot, shot down over Laos. 

Jim Hicks, 26, Guido Carloni, 24, and Tom Lange, 25, each lost his life in an aircraft accident during training for deployment to Vietnam. 

And then there was Ron Zinn, 26, my brother Jeff's West Point roommate, class of 1962. Ron, who treated me like a kid brother, was a world-class race walker and died in a 1965 firefight in Vietnam. 

Chuck Jeffries, 28, killed in an ambush by communist insurgents in the Philippines in 1974.

And I have to add another friend who survived combat tours in Vietnam. Classmate Mike Smith, 40, astronaut and space shuttle pilot, died in the Challenger disaster. 

There were many, many others, classmates and shipmates, far too many to mention here, but all remain in my prayers. Take some time today to remember those you have known who gave their lives so you could live the life you have lived.