Some Memorial Day Thoughts

If I have ever grown up, which is doubted by many, credit needs to be extended to three major influences in my life. My parents were a major influence with respect to those things we learn during our youth many call the formative years. They implanted values that have proven their worth throughout my life. The Bell System provided me with my first real experience in the corporate world, but the entity which probably influenced my life the most is the United States Marine Corps. As your typical near “Baby-boomer,” who never wanted for much of anything throughout the first twenty-two years of life, I didn’t perceived my enlistment in the Marine Corps as much more of an obstacle that anything else I had encountered in my short life. I was in for a rather abrupt introduction to life in the corps. My drill instructor really didn’t care who my daddy was, whether our family was poverty stricken, embedded in the upper middle class or wealthy. All he was interested in doing was breaking me and my fellow recruits down to zero resistance and then molding us into Marines. Until he completed the task at hand, we were known as slime balls, pukes and several unprintable names, but never a United States Marine until we graduated from boot camp. We had been transformed from a value of nothing in the all knowing eyes of our drill instructor to a valued asset of our country. And the common thread which now bound us together was simply this; the goal of the group always exceeded the value of the individual. I have always felt the lessons I learned as a leatherneck have served me well throughout my life. The emphasis on commitment, loyalty to others, discipline and sacrifice are not taught in any college classroom I’m aware of. I know of no better way to come to realize what a great nation this is than to spend some time in a far away place where the things we take for granted are unheard of. My time in Corps was well spent with a return on investment which is difficult to calculate by today’s standards or lack there of. But one thing that is easily embraced is the importance of those who came before us and paid the ultimate sacrifice for the way of life we enjoy today. Regardless of the branch of service, we owe a great deal of gratitude to all of our veterans who answered the call, but on this holiday, at least a moment of silence, to those who gave their lives to preserve the greatest nation on the planet. The number of Americans who saw action on D-Day to initiate the liberation of Europe or stormed the beaches at Iwo Jima, Guadal Canal, Saipan and many other distant places is dwindling. Many of today’s now generation perceive the scenes portrayed in the “Saving of Private Ryan” as merely a Hollywood production to sell movie goers tickets for a profit. The real stars of those portrayed scenes are receiving orders for a different campaign in a different locale at a rapid rate. We can’t acknowledge their contributions soon enough. We can now add places like Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan to the many places that have placed our troops in harms way. The lives surrendered there are of no less importance than those given in any other war. It warms my heart to see the outpouring of support for our service personnel in the way of internet posts and other ways of showing support for a thankless job once again well done. For those currently embracing the mumblings of some politicians and talking heads about isolationism, perhaps a chat with a Pearl Harbor vet, while there still are some, might be in order. Or perhaps a cruise beneath the Golden Gate Bridge to view the gun positions installed to protect from a possible Pacific invasion just might open some eyes. On this holiday, originally intended to honor the loss of life on both sides during the Civil War and later expanded to include much, much more, let’s take time for a well deserved salute, American style. For me, my Marine Corps roots are special and I can still remember the incessant laughing of my uncle Kermit, a USMC veteran of the invasions at Iwo Jima and Guadal Canal, when I proudly told him I had enlisted in the Corps. Perhaps I was just destined to serve in an organization which was born in a tavern a year prior to the Declaration of Independence. Just goes to show you that not all ideas conceived in a bar are bad. Perhaps I’ll visit Tun Tavern in Philadelphia someday……If only those walls could talk. And I’ll raise my glass of Scotch, of course, and proclaim to all those present or who have frequented the tavern in the past. “Here’s to checks for wars, written by politicians and cashed by the men and women wearing the uniform of the United States of America.” See Ya’ Around the Pond!!