Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day – Think you know the difference?

I come from a Legacy (the L is a capital for a reason) Army family, and a Legacy Marine family.   Those of us who are unable to serve, for physical reasons or reasons of happenstance, become law enforcement.

When you’re one of us, that’s it.   Black.   White.  You wear a uniform, the same as every generation before you – and know that the dead stand in your wake.  Or you wear a badge, and try to live up to those who went before.   My mother was a staff officer when she retired after 20 years.   My father was a Washington PD officer before being retired on injury, and meeting my mother when he went back to school.   That’s my family.  That’s my blood, as far back as we’ve ever been able to trace through heraldry or genealogy. 

This Memorial Day my ancestors are going to rise from their graves, if for no more reason than to spit the taste of modern America from their mouths.    With “fake news” this, and “Love Trump(s) hate” that, the living have all forgotten something.

We’ve forgotten this country.   We’ve forgotten the price of it.   More accurately, we’ve forgotten the value of it.  

We’ve forgotten the people who died or who live a life that’s forfeit, for this country.   We drew a line in the sand over some petty election allegations.  In the middle, the uniformed services (both with badges and with patches) are suffering and sometimes dying in order to keep the peace. 

Memorial Day is this weekend.   And yes, Memorial and Day, are capitalized.   They deserve to be capitalized.  Don’t you dare let it be otherwise – Arlington is full of too many graves of the honored dead for you to be grammatically lazy or ironically “funny”.    We have a Tomb of the Unknown BECAUSE there are so many that we couldn’t retrieve their bodies properly for their families to mourn them.  

I heard a Memorial Day joke that used the holiday as an Antifa punchline – and I had to be calmly walked out of the store by my wife.  You see, for me visiting my ancestors is an easy trip – I just walk into Arlington.   So I won’t hear those jokes.   Not this weekend.

Arlington National Cemetery is full of the honored dead who gave their last full measure of devotion so that you could have your “demonstrations” and your “resistance parties” this weekend, and spit on their graves.   And they know that.   They KNOW that.  

The honored dead do not end, they do not “pass on” into some pearly gated heaven scene from a Bosch painting – they stand watch, the same as they did in life.   They man the towers and the lines, and they walk the night watch down the quiet road between signals and post.  They are the shine in the boots of a Marine.   They are the snap in the salute to the Medal of Honor.

Veterans’ Day (again, you see those capitals?) is a day that we honor those who paid blood for our country, and wear those scars as a brand.  If they want to make jokes about it, they can.   THEY can, not you.  They’ve stood post in 100 degree temps with a black rifle that grilled their fingers through their gloves.  They’ve driven the roads, low on crew rest, hyper-alert for IED’s on continuous duty shifts.   They’ve slept in their boots when their squadron was on the up watch and they’ve come home to a country that cares less for them than for weak kneed protesters.  

Vets can make jokes about Veterans Day.   They get to do that.  You won’t understand most of them.  Those of us in badges only understand a rare few.   That’s how select their brotherhood is.  You want to make the jokes?   Do the service. 

Memorial Day is the day we give over to those who served and died for God and country.  Whether they rest in Arlington National Cemetery, or in Green Acres Happy Hills – they are American heroes, and involving them or their day in your petty politics is disgusting.   Forgetting them as you throw a party for your “day off” and stuff yourselves with burgers and potato salad is just as bad. 

So while you are busy getting blitzed, stuffing yourselves at picnics, buying memorial day tat at Wal-Mart and having family parties – just this once, try to take a moment to pour one on the grave of an American soldier, a sailor, a marine or an airman. 

Because the honored dead?  

They’re not gone – you’ve just forgotten them.