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Memorial Day

I often feel a tinge of guilt for never serving in the US military. My father's service, spanning from Vietnam to Desert Storm, deepens that feeling of guilt. The fact that he never really wanted me to be in the military helps me overcome my guilt a tad. It's complicated.

The mandatory service in the Israeli military seems like it could do our population some good, but I'm not sure how good it would be for the overall of our country. Again, complicated.

But one thing I can say, without hesitation, is that this weekend is a holiday dedicated to people who have embodied so many of the traits that I hold dear, aspire to, or am shamed to not possess.

Some gave all, paying the ultimate price in war. Some, with minimal fear, took the approach of "once more into the breach". Others, drenched in sweat and fear, pushed forward while every cell in their body screamed 'no'. Many surely cowered when surrounded by the chaos of war, but were still there for the fight. All possess a degree of heroism that few will ever know. The fallen do not necessarily possess a greater degree of heroism than the veterans that survived war, but this weekend belongs to the fallen.

So this weekend, I will try to contemplate the true meaning of this holiday. I will do this without any of the Memorial Day trappings (BBQ, pool, lake,etc.) I will also do this without the idea of country, or flag, or specific war, conflict, or campaign.

This memorial day I will remember that who we honor were friends, sons, daughters, fathers, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins, neighbors, co-workers, etc, etc, etc. They were people. All of them different, that share one thing. They put themselves in harms way and gave their life for something.

Future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal background, the countless minor scenes and interiors of the secession war; and it is best they should not. The real war will never get in the books. -Walt Whitman

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