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[dropcap2 variation=”coffee”]E[/dropcap2]very year at this time, I’m struck by the courage of those who’ve given their lives in the service of our country. Even the word sacrifice pales in the face of what they’ve done. Next Monday, we pause and remember.

In preparation, I’d like to introduce you to Sam, Pete, Willard, Max, and Orin. They’re veterans still living, all having personally witnessed the ultimate sacrifice made by many of those around them over the course of three wars. Here are snippets of their stories:

 

Sam and Pete

Sam and Pete served in World War II – Sam in the Army, Pete in the Marines. They lived in an assisted living facility and sat together at meals. Their favorite colors were olive green and khaki.

I had the honor of eating dinner with them one evening. It was a conversation I’ll never forget.

I asked about their lives and families. They both immediately grew thoughtful, and began talking about the War.

“They sent me to Europe. I was in the Battle of Bulge,” Sam said as he stared off into the distance behind me.  “Bad, terrible, awful things happened there.”

Sam sighed, bowed his head, and pulled his olive green cap down over his eyes. Pete turned and laid a trembling hand on his buddy’s shoulder.

“I was at Pearl Harbor,” Pete whispered. “Enough said.”

He paused and took a deep breath.

“And I was at Okinawa. Beautiful place. I heard they made it a resort, like Hawaii.” He shook his head.  “Bad business, Okinawa.”

Pete stared at his food. Sam sat motionless, head bowed. Silence reigned.

After several minutes, Pete raised his head. A solitary tear stole down his cheek. Sam sniffed, wiped his nose with a handkerchief, and continued staring at his lap.

“Bad, bad business,” Pete said.

 

Willard

Willard was a farmer. He’d worked more than seventy harvests and raised ten children. At ninety-two, he was thin, but far from fragile.

I sat with Willard at his kitchen table while he gazed out the window with a faraway look.

“Do you smell that?” he asked suddenly, sniffing. “Sulphur,” he whispered.

“Saipan. Guys were falling all around me – so many of them. And I…I just walked right through. How? Why?” he asked, turning his blue eyes toward me.

He blinked, turned, and stared out the window again, tears in his eyes. “Why am I still here?”

 

Max

Max grew up in the inner city in a harsh and unfriendly environment. Rather than growing bitter, he developed a heart for people. He joined the Army at 18 and served with distinction in three wars.

His life of service continued when he retired from the military. A well-respected businessman, he immersed himself in his community, working with at-risk youth. “The Old Soldier,” they affectionately called him.

One day I commented, “Max, you know you’re a hero, right?”

He gazed into my eyes. “I just did my duty – nothing special. I came back. So many of my buddies…” he said, choking over the last words.

 

Orin

Orin was a career military man. He fought in Korea and Vietnam. At his assisted living facility he was simply known as “the colonel.”

Orin never missed a Bible Study. One day we were talking about forgiveness. The colonel was unusually quiet.

“Colonel, what do you think?” I asked.

He dropped his eyes and began to shake. “Forgiveness is tough,” he said, hanging his head. “It’s so hard! What they did to me, to my buddies. . .”

The rest of the group sat in stunned silence.

“I was a POW in Vietnam for two years. It was horrible…the torture. They…well…many of my buddies didn’t make it,” he said. “Sometimes I can close my eyes and I’m right back there again.”

 

Time to do our duty

Freedom is always under assault. Everything right, precious and good usually is. So many have died for it, and veterans are still paying the price today.

Freedom is never free. It is secured, and protected, with great sacrifice.

Take time to remember. Sit in awe of their courage and commitment. Give thanks.  

If you know a veteran, take the time to say thank you.

If you see a service man or woman, shake their hand, and tell them how much they mean to you and your family.

If you know someone serving overseas, take the time to write a letter or email of thanks.

And pray. Many of our warriors are suffering in silence, haunted by terrors inherited while protecting us. For them, the war is never over.

So to those who’ve given it all, and to those who continue to daily lay down their lives – on behalf of us, our families, and a grateful country, we say thank you.

 

Question: Who are you remembering and honoring this Memorial Day?

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