How can we forget?  It's the one day each year that Kat will show up and post Flanders Field.

Also, please remember the families of those who gave their lives for us. They continue to pay the price for all of their lives. Wives have lost husbands, fathers and mothers have lost sons and daughters, children have lost their father/mother. Freedom is indeed not free. Some gave all, and their families continue to give. There are those I will be thinking of particularly this weekend.

Sgt. Ian Tawney left behind his wife who was pregnant with their daughter, born three months later.
Lance Corporal James Stack left behind his pregnant wife. We went to his wake.
Lance Corporal Alec Catherwood went through Boot Camp and ACT with my son. His family established the Darkhorse Lodge in his memory as a place for Marines to go when they need a break. The club in my book, Stranded at Romson's Lodge, is very loosely inspired by this.
Lt. William Donnelly IV died on Thanksgiving Day. He was married the previous Sept. 11.

These are just a few of the men from Darkhorse, 3rd Battalion 5th Marine Regiment, who sacrificed their lives doing what the British had been unable to do in the Sangin Province of Afghanistan in ten years. In all, they lost 25 men, with 184 wounded. They took the greatest losses of any unit in the Afghani war, BUT, when they left, the Sangin Province was at peace with no insurgent activity, markets and schools reopened, and roads reopened for the people to travel safely.

I know there are many more we owe a great debt to. These are just the ones I am most closely connected to.

As we celebrate Memorial Day, let's remember what Abraham Lincoln said in his eulogy over the dead in the new cemetary at Gettysburg, " . . .  It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain . . ."


Jerry

Jon, you were right. I couldn't. I did OK until I watched the newsclip of his funeral. I know he didn't know the honors he was given, but they were well deserved, and others know, and that is what matters. Thanks for sharing this, my friend.

jlc

Jon, that's quite a story in so many ways, not just in how he completed his last "mission" but also in how strangers paid their respects, recognizing not just what he had done but all the others who contributed so much often the ultimate sacrifice.

I found this YouTube video of Mild and Bitter's 100th mission. No sound but lots of video of the mission and maybe you might recognise your uncle if he was there at the time.
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So many amazing adventures that hopefully will never be forgotten...

jon019 wrote on May 27^th, 2016 at 10:42am:


Most will be but not forgotten. The youngest WWII veterans who were just 18 years old in 1945 will be 89 now.

I've memories as a young child talking to my grandparents neighbour, "uncle" Bill. He was a Desert Rat during the war, fighting in North Africa. I never knew exactly what he did but did something that saved a lot of guys winning a medal (British Empire Medal) for it. He never really said much about that part.

My grandfather was for Ireland, which wasn't involved in the war, but like so many people he joined up and was a gunner on an anti-aircraft battery (AAA) helping defend the UK against the Luftwaffe.

My grandmother was a spotter, using telescopic sights to track enemy bombers and helping to feed coordinates to the anti-aircraft batteries, which is how they met and got married.

My step-grandfather was based in the Falklands, which is where there was a pretty intense naval battle during WWI, however during WWII nothing too much seemed to happen so they spent their time guarding hay stacks.

Another relative was in the Royal Navy on convoy duty who survived his ship being sunk in the Mediterranean.

My partner's grandfather was training to be a doctor and ended up in charge of a military hospital with several hundred beds but missed out being able to continue his formal medical training after the war was over.

All are now gone, but not forgotten.