Memorial Day

It's raining here in DC. May try to get to Arlington later today. We've tried to make it a point to go every year to pay respects.

 

To those who gave their lives defending our freedom throughout our nation's history, we salute you.

 

Beautiful photo, Ian! Hope that's not considered a partisan remark.

(from B@W):
Went to the cemetery to put flowers on the family graves. Somber day, realizing that most of the men in my mother's generation are veterans. It was hard enough, cleaning my dad's grave, but then we did my Uncle Teddy's. I obviously never met him, but he died 60 years ago last week, at Anzio Beach. My other uncle gave my mom letters that Uncle Teddy wrote to him while on the boat to Italy. He had broken his glasses, and was looking forward to landing, so he could get new glasses. The report that the family got was that he never got past the beach. The Speakers' Stand at the cemetery is very close to his grave, so we can usually see it, if there's pictures of it. We also visited the graves of other family, and my brother's friend who was killed in Viet Nam.

On the other hand, Buffy went with us, which was definitely NOT a good idea. He was a real handful, so we started leaving him in the (running, with the a/c on) car, but he barked & honked the horn and generally drove us nuts. All the people smiled and waved to us. He stays home next year!!

 

Memorial Day always makes me cry. Always. The sacrifices that men and women who have worn the uniform of the United States military is what made me join the military when I was young.

I haven't been to see the new WWII memorial in DC yet. I'll probably head down there tomorrow.

I'll never forget a concert the band I was in (Pennsylvania Amry National Guard 28th Infantry Division) played one year on Memorial Day. We went to Boalsburg, PA, which is where the 28th shrine is located. Boalsburgh is the town where Memorial Day was first observed.

Our concert that day was to acknowledge the sacrifices made during WWII by members of the 28th Division. They had earned the nickname the Bloody Bucket during WWII, because of the red keystone patch they wore on their sleeves. The division entered the war in July of '44, after D-Day. They came in as replacements who were mobilized to help shore up the casualties the Allies had taken during the assault. They fought bravely through France and into Belgium and Luxembourgh.

During the Battle of the Bulge in December of that year, they had a line that stretched 25 miles long and that was also very thin. No one thought the Germans would launch a counter attack, but they did. The 28th held the line, even though they took very heavy casualties. They were eventually relieved by the 101st Airborne Division, who in turn held Bastogne and withstood the Wermacht. The 28th went on to liberate Colmar (in Alsace). Those brave men, civilian soldiers all, won five US campaign banners as well as the French "Cross of War."

The unit I served in, the 28th Division Band, put down their instruments and picked up their M1s during all the battles the division fought during the war. The were transformed from bandsmen civilians to military bandsment to military infantrymen, and most of them were pretty young.

During the 1950s, my father's uncle, CWO Louie Lastort, was the 28th Division Band commander when they were stationed in Germany. They brought them back to the Pennsylvania in about '54 or so. My father joined the unit in 1956 after he served four years in the USAF. He was my inspiration to join in 1980 when I was 18 years old. My dad was promoted to the unit's first sergeant (highest ranking enlisted man) in 1990, and retired after 40 years of service in 1994.

I only served for about a year and half before I went active duty USAF, but every time I put on the uniform and saw the banners that the unit had won during its existence, my heart swelled with pride, and my eyes filled with tears for the sacrifices those men made.

Anyway, for the WWII memorial that year, we played a gig for the 28th Division vets who fought and died during the war. This must've been in '81, maybe '82. They had an annual reunion for all the people in the division who fought in the war in the summer. I'll never forget talking to those men about what they did in the name of the United States, and in the name of freedom. They were mostly from Pennsylvania, but a few were from other states who moved to PA just to joine the 28th because of the reputation it had.

To me, those men, and my father, and his uncle John (who joined the US Army in 1942 and who fought at Anzio, Salerno, and Monte Cassino) and his uncle Louie (who became the 28th Division Bandmaster in the '50s), represent everything that Memorial Day means to me.

I'm lucky in that my dad and his uncle John are still alive. I'm also lucky that I met my wife's mother's uncle Mike, who was born and raised in Northern Ireland, and joined the Royal Air Force as a pilot in 1939, is also still alive. He fought against the Germans in a Beaufighter and was shot down three times over the Channel, and survived each time. The third time grounded him because his legs were almost blown off by shrapnel. He spent the rest of the war in uniform, directing things from the ground. He could've gone home, but chose not to. One of the greatest honors I've ever had in my life was when Uncle Mike gave his medals (including the British Distinguished Flying Cross) to Jan and me. We have them hanging on our wall next to a picture of him, in uniform in front of his plane, from 1941 or so.

Sorry to ramble. Those men, all of them, living and dead, represent what Memorial Day means for me. Anyone brave enough to die in service to their country deserves the utmost respect from every citizen who survives them.

Man, I'm getting all choked up just writing this. Again, I apoligize for going off on such a tangent.

 

Rats, Mike - you have me puddling up now!!

Are you from near Boalburg? Having several relatives with vacation homes near PSU, I've been there several times. It's terribly moving, but never so moving as Memorial Day!

 

I grew up in Altoona, which is pretty near Boalsburg. But I live in Maryland now, about three hours south of there.

 

I just watched the docu on the WWII memorial on PBS. It's a little bit strange for me, since both my grandfathers fought on the other side, but it's silly to talk about who fought for whom, and it's impossible not to be moved by the sacrifice made by the entire nation in WWII.

I want to visit the memorial now.