On the road this weekend visiting family with limited internet connection, but here’s an item I posted a few years back and is worth another look.
The men and women who have died in our wars were fighting for me and my family, even though they didn’t know us and we didn’t know them. I possess merely a tiny fraction of the understanding needed to comprehend the sacrifice that they made. With that tiny fraction, I do my best to remember them. Every day, of course, but on this day especially.
Several years ago my family and I visited the USS Yorktown in Charleston, South Carolina. While wandering the great ship, I happened to notice this among the thousands of displays:
It says WITHIN AND NEAR THESE EXHIBIT COMPARTMENTS 32 MEN DIED AND 71 WERE WOUNDED 16 APRIL 1945 WHILE FIGHTING 50 KAMIKAZES.
Right there. Right where I and my family were standing.
Sixty years ago. Before my kids were born. Before I was born. Before my parents were born.
And those men died fighting for all of us.
I don’t know what else to say about it.