Pick up a Check for a Soldier
Memorial Day is the time to remember our war dead and the causes for which they “gave their last full measure of devotion.” Because we are now at war, the wounds of the families are fresh and the national mood will be somber on Monday – even while people take advantage of furniture sales and good weather.
Memorial Day is the time to remember our war dead and the causes for which they “gave their last full measure of devotion.” Because we are now at war, the wounds of the families are fresh and the national mood will be somber on Monday – even while people take advantage of furniture sales and good weather.
We will remember the brave men (and more recently the women) who fought and died from Bunker Hill to New Orleans to Buena Vista to Shiloh to Chateau-Thierry to Cape Esperance and Kasserine Pass to Taejon to Khe Sanh to 73 Easting to Fallujah. Some were drafted, some were volunteers; none returned to enjoy the pleasures of what we call our “American way of life,” including the gifts of culture, food and habits given to America by waves of immigrants who also gave their sons in battle.
Those who died will not know that we remember them, so we suggest honoring those who died by honoring those who still serve. Yes, we have Veterans Day for that. But just as people often give charity in memory of a deceased person – who surely cannot benefit from it – do something for a soldier in memory of a soldier.
We especially like the comments of a radio personality who mentioned this morning that his service in the Marine Corps during Vietnam had taught him many things. Most important, he said, he learned to appreciate those who appreciate soldiers (which during the 1970s was a rather small national group). As an enlisted Marine, he had been in a restaurant trying to impress a young lady. A stranger picked up the tab and sent over a bottle of champagne. After leaving the service and finding employment, he passed the gesture along. “Every time I see an enlisted Marine, I pick up the check. If I see a soldier in a bar, I pay the tab. I want them to know that I appreciate what they do.”
Pick up the check, or at least stop and say “thank you.”
We are reminded, too, of a story told by an Israeli about his days as a young soldier on the Suez Canal during the 1970 War of Attrition. “I had leave and returned to Tel Aviv. My wife and I sat in a cafe on Dizengoff Street on Saturday night and watched people eat, drink and laugh. I was SO ANGRY – how DARE they enjoy themselves while my soldiers and I sit on the Suez Canal under fire and at risk of death every day. Then I realized that the reason I sat on the Suez Canal under fire and at risk of death every day was PRECISELY so they could eat, drink and laugh on Dizengoff.”
If 9-11 made us aware of the fragility of our peace at home and the nature of our enemies abroad, it also made us proud of the men and women who fight for us. Too many soldiers die without knowing that we appreciate that what they do provides the space for us to eat, drink and laugh; to fly our flags; to go to a furniture sale or to the beach on a long, lovely weekend.
Ensure that the next soldier you see knows how you feel about the sacrifice – while you can do it and while he or she can appreciate it.