Memorial Day Service
As the daughter of a Korean War
Veteran, wife of a career Naval Officer and mother of a former RECON Marine it
was an honor to address the people gathered in historic Edgefield Town Square,
SC for the Memorial Day Service presented by the American Legion Auxiliary.
We
Have Seen and We Remember
By Penny L. Hunt
I
will never smell the fragrance of lavender without recalling the small village
of La Brigue, France and D-day.
During the time my husband served as an attaché in France
we were invited to spend a weekend with
friends at their mountain home near the Italian border. Our arrival in La
Brigue, an ancient village of indescribable beauty and charm, coincided with
the anniversary date of American troops landing in Menton and Ventimiglia
to begin the liberation of France during World War II.
News
of an American naval officer and his family visiting the tiny village quickly
spread from home to home and the next morning as we walked with our friends to
the market place a most remarkable thing happened.
Unknown
to us, there were still living in La Brigue men and women who had experienced
the occupation and liberation of their village.
Three of these women, anticipating our walk to the market sat together
on a bench with hopes of catching us as we walked by. When they saw my husband they eagerly
motioned for us to come near them.
Our
friends, a bit embarrassed, explained they were just harmless old busy bodies
but asked if we would be so kind as to humor them with a short visit.
What
happened next changed me forever.
As
our friends made the customary introductions the women stood, and one-by-one to
embrace my husband and shower him with kisses of adoration.
Bill
is, to me, a handsome man, but this was over the top! Had they mistaken him for a movie star? I was confused until, through the interpretation
assistance of our friends, I began to understand what all the fuss was
about.
These
elderly women had been waiting on that bench since the opening of the market in
hopes of being able to personally
thank my American military husband for what our country had done for them so
many years earlier.
With
tears they shared the stories surrounding the day of liberation, repeatedly
stoking my husband’s arm, thanking him for coming.
As
we bid them Bon Jour and headed again in the direction of the Marche a little
girl ran breathlessly up the cobblestone street in an effort to catch up with
us. She explained to our hosts that her
grandmother had sent her with a gift to find us. Again, as introductions were made, the little
girl reached out, took my hand and pressed into it handkerchief neatly tied and
filled with lavender. As I accepted the
gift she performed a little courtesy and then, as young girls do, quickly ran
away!
To
have witnessed and received such an emotionally unchecked outpouring of
appreciation from members of a generation who had faced the fear of oppression
and known the joy the liberation was a truly overwhelming experience. To have
bestowed upon us the gratitude due the men who only a generation ago willingly
gave their lives for the cause of freedom and peace will never be
forgotten. I will never smell the
fragrance of lavender without remembering those now at eternal rest beneath the
soil of a land that was never their own.
They
are a generation quickly fading, vanishing daily by the thousands, before our
very eyes. But they and those like them who came before and after them are not
forgotten. For we have seen, and we
remember.
You
have seen them too.
And
you have seen the flags.
Flags.
Flags, lifted from the
tops of caskets to be meticulously folded by strong, white-gloved hands in a
ceremonial doubling that completes
itself with no stripe of red showing, for now no more blood is flowing.
You
have seen them.
Flags.
Flags
that rest on the shelves of mobile homes and hilltop mansions incased in
triangles of cedar, cherry and pine. Look closely behind the non-glare glass at
the field of navy blue stars and you will see the stain of tears that fell as
taps was played as over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and
over again as another son, daughter, husband, wife, lover, brother, sister,
father or mother is interred.
Dust
to dust – ashes to ashes. Gone forever
leaving an empty place in the garden of our lives that can never be
replaced.
We
stagger from the gravesides of our fallen to the refuge and shelter of waiting
cars and drive away comforting ourselves with reminders of eternal life for
those who trust in Jesus and dream of the sweet by-and-by when we will one day
be reunited
Dust
settles atop the wooden triangles and is wiped away with soft cloth and
lemon-fragranced polish. Time passes,
grass grows and as friends, as families as communities we begin to heal.
But we do not forget!
We
remember.
We
mourn.
And
we commemorate.
We are the ones who have been left behind.
We are the witnesses –
the keepers of the truth who remember the challenges, the terrible cost of war,
the suffering, the broken societies, the countries destroyed and those who
stood with strong, bloodied hands to defend the defenseless and wrench them
from the grip of demented, demon-possessed rulers, evil beyond understanding,
unwaveringly bent on the annihilation of those they deem unworthy of life or
who stand in the way of their insatiable lust for power.
These
are wars that no one wanted, but these are the wars that had to be fought!
And we remember.
We remember in our town squares and city parks.
We remember in our state capitals and along our highways.
We
remember with ships entombed in the waters of Pearl Harbor, national cemeteries
where today the glorious symbol of our nation flutters in row upon row of red,
white and blue in front of the graves of those who served, defended and
protected us.
We have seen them.
And we remember.
We
remember, in our nation’s capital with monuments erected to memorialize, with
respect and reverence, both our nation’s Presidents and our war heroes through
magnificently crafted images and remarkable inscriptions. Monuments like:
- The
Washington Monument
- Lincoln
Memorial
- World
War I Memorial
- Jefferson
Memorial
- Iwo
Jima Memorial
- Korean
War Veterans Memorial
- Vietnam
Veterans Memorial
- Franklin
D. Roosevelt Memorial
- Women
in Military Service For America Memorial
- World
War II Memorial
- The
Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
- And
in New York City, a field in Pennsylvania and on the grounds of the
Pentagon in Washington, DC we remember September 11, 2001.
The
whole earth is the tomb of heroes, and dare I say it, she-roes.
Women who
cross-dressed as men to serve in the Civil War lie buried alongside fellow
soldiers, their sex undiscovered even in death.
She-roes who have extended home
front duties to those of the battlefield.
Women who have served as nurses in every war of our nation’s history,
have spied, staffed recreation centers, typed letters that began, “We regret to
inform you…” and in today’s battles are mothers shouldering weapons who drive
tanks, perform surgeries, command forces and write intelligence briefings.
Today,
women make up 15 percent of the active duty forces and 20 percent of the
reserves. They are privates, sergeants, lieutenants, colonels, generals and
admirals. They are all-to-often unacknowledged and unappreciated. They are the she-roes of war who,
alongside the brave men we esteem as heroes, have given their lives in
the line of duty.
The
stories of these men and women are written on more than stones with dates of
birth and death. Their stories are
written in the spaces between those dashes and remain, without visible symbol,
woven into the fabric of our lives and the lives of every American.
I
would be remiss if, on this day, I did not remind us that we have been at war
for over 13 years! I know You who have set aside
time to gather here in Edgefield’s Town Square to honor and remember the
ultimate sacrifice of freedom’s defenders “get it”.
You are exceptional and I applaud you!
The
general public is incredibly isolated, under informed and, often disinterested
in the 2.5 million members of the Army, Navy,
Marines,
Air Force, Coast Guard and related Reserve and National Guard units, including our own South Carolina 122nd
Engineer Battalion, who have been deployed in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars
since the U.S. went to war in 2001. Moreover, According to Department of
Defense 37,000 Americans had
been deployed more than five times,
Why? Why does the average American citizen “little
note nor long remember” the significance of this day? I believe it is because they have not been
persuaded to know there is a time to put down the carrot and pick up the
stick. They choose to look away and not
to focus on the cost of that resolve as it is played out with flags in nearly
every American community. Flags that have been draped on caskets numbering
nearly 7,000 that have been collected by loved ones in airports across America. Our eyes have been veiled and our ears numbed
to the cries of the brokenhearted and grieving.
And
how can we even begin to imagine the effects of this war and how they will
linger for years – for lifetimes – for decades… Already, the wars in
Afghanistan and Iraq have produced more disability claims per veteran than any
other war including Vietnam, Korea and World War II.
VA
records show more than 1.6 million military members who had been deployed in
The Global War On Terror have already transitioned to veteran status. And, of those veterans, approximately 670,000
have been awarded disability status connected to their military service.
Another 100,000 have their initial claims pending. And more - many, many more - a tsunami
wave of “more”
are headed our way. With the drawdown now past mid-point, 32,800 American men
and women will soon return to their homeland with plans, at a later date, for
the return of another 10,000 soldiers.
As
I spend time with Wounded Warriors and their families, I am overwhelmed with the
physical, mental, emotional and spiritual needs of those suffering with the
consequences of traumatic injuries and brain damage.
Not
all have died. Many, as I once heard a
veteran say, have done the harder thing.
They have lived.
Today,
at 3:00 the President has, by official proclamation, requested all Americans to
pause for a moment of silent reflection and remember those who have paid the
supreme price for our freedom and peace.
But
I say – let’s not do that!
Let’s not stand in silence!
Instead, let us
raise our voices in words of grateful praise and thanksgiving.
Let us vow to
remember and memorialize those who have died for us.
And let us
purpose and promise with passion to meet the needs of those who have and will
return from the long, hard and mortal 13 years of war our nation has endured.
I
will not stand in silence at 3:00 today.
Today I will look beyond the poppies of Flanders
Field and heavenward above our marble memorials.
Today
I will sing.
No,
I will shout!
I
will shout To The Lord
My
comfort, my shelter,
My
Tower of refuge and strength;
I will thank Him
for you.
And I will thank
Him for the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us.
I
will join my voice with millions of others and shout to the Lord in One Voice –
thanking Him for my brothers and sisters whose blood has colored ocean waves
red, seeped unseen into the sands of foreign lands and been lapped by dogs in
the streets of places where terror once, but no longer reigns.
I
will shout to the Lord thanking Him and beseeching Him for His continued
blessing upon America.
Will you join me today at 3 O’clock?
Will
you shout with me – out loud or in the deep well of your heart for those whose memory we honor in flags,
lowed this Memorial Day in remembrance of their valor.
As
I stand and look upon the ceremonial wreath and crosses placed here in our
elegant town square, I proudly stand among those who have seen; seen the flags,
the caskets and the burial grounds of our warriors past and present.
I
stand among those who remember and I am honored to be among you, to know you
and to call you friends. I am proud to be the wife of a warrior, an American
and a member of the American Legion Auxiliary.
Thank
you for being here.
May
God bless you.
And
may God bless America.
