I am alive today because my natural father lived through his service as a US Army rifleman in World War II. He marched across France, came home with shrapnel in his leg, and made a fairly good life after the war.
(“Arlington,” by Sunday Money, on Flickr under Creative Commons.)
I am the man I am today because my adoptive father lived through his term of US Army service in the early 1950s. He served in Germany, interviewing scientists associated with Operation Paperclip, often close to if not occasionally inside the Soviet area of occupation.
I am personally very pleased that both of these men made it through their military service alive. I am pleased that one of them is still with us, still vital and active. I can only imagine how difficult it is for the families of those who fought for our freedom but did not return.
I will not, cannot, forget those served and those who are still serving, standing in the gap for all of us.
But on this Memorial Day and every day, I offer my deepest appreciation for those who fell, who gave all they had to give, and who in their falling made it possible for others — including me — to live.
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