A Captain’s Reflection on Memorial Day

Topic: Reflection

I echo the call of my friend, Captain James Tesauro, to hold Memorial Day in its proper perspective. It is not a “happy” day, as in “Happy Memorial Day.”  It is a somber remembrance of those who have been lost in battle in defense of this Republic.

Memorial Day is not the time to debate the merits of a foreign policy that has wasted countless lives for pointless wars. I happen to believe America hasn’t waged a war of necessity since World War II, but the loss of life in our campaigns since then remains very real, and lives on in the minds of those who loved our fallen servicemen when they were here on Earth.

My father was a very worldly man for most of his life. He was very wise, but didn’t always apply that wisdom in his daily life; that makes him like all of us. He lived the majority of his life with the emotional and mental wounds of his service in Vietnam, and was capable of inflicting emotional pain on those he loved, or, conversely, valuable lessons that laid a foundation for successful leadership.

One of my favorite Dad stories centers around my promotion to First Lieutenant in November 2009. That promotion is all but guaranteed, and every officer not outside of fitness standards or in legal trouble will make it, typically within two years of commissioning.  I came out on the promotion list on time, and as soon as the promotion ceremony was scheduled, Dad informed me he would travel to Fort Hood, Texas, from my childhood home in Mississippi to see my promotion. I tried to give him an “easy out” by relaying the automatic nature of the promotion, but he insisted on coming, so I relented.

Promotion day came, and my brigade commander pinned on the new rank, with Dad present.  Dad congratulated me, and I tried once again to play it cool, reminding him that it was “automatic.”  That is when my philosophical wisdom (at the ripe old age of 25) was formally scuttled. Dad uttered a quote I will never forget:

“Son, I knew a lot of second lieutenants in Vietnam who didn’t live long enough to make first lieutenant.”

I was rattled and stopped dead in my tracks.  From that point forward, I began to celebrate seemingly insignificant victories in life. From where Patriots stand today, good news is in scarce supply. As you may be aware, if you keep up with me on social media, I do what I can to maintain a positive state of mind aimed at driving others to action. I celebrate with them when they have small victories or manage to shift narratives in a positive direction.

I did not know, at the time of my promotion, that Dad would not live long enough to see me make Captain in 2011.  Within months of our exchange at Fort Hood, he was diagnosed with cancer and lived just six months beyond the diagnosis. I was flown home on emergency leave to bid him farewell.

That loss of my favorite veteran has never been fully grieved. I couldn’t lay aside my duties in Afghanistan to collect my thoughts and deal with the sense of loss in my heart.  Dad’s contribution to my life outweighed all of the damage he was responsible for - like the tremendous need for affirmation caused by his critical nature that led me to constantly search for pieces of my self esteem as I grew up.

His lessons taught me to connect to myself,  and make peace with my past.  I constantly pick up lessons from him I’d never conceived of as I continue on my journey. The ability to grieve alongside those suffering from loss does not always come naturally. Many are hardened to the world’s sadness and injustice; I attended a vigil in Uvalde, Texas, yesterday in honor of those lost in the tragic school shooting. I saw the daughter of the teacher who died write, “I miss you Mom,” in pink chalk on the concrete and felt instantly saddened to a point I’ve not felt in quite some time.

The memory of our fallen soldiers, as with the memory to all who pass away, particularly those who die young and tragically, reminds us that life is brief and must be lived with purpose. I like to call it “playing with house money,” in the sense that God knows our time of birth and our time of death, and that we owe it to Him and to those we love to live it at full speed and fulfill our callings.

Those who fell in combat for this nation, regardless of the foolishness of our foreign policy at the time, did so with the understanding that untimely death may be part of the job description.  Many of those who did not fall in combat fell and continue to fall to the mental anguish wrought by those many months or years under fire and intense pressure.  The heart of the soldier is one of a defender, to serve and protect the people they love, and to uphold all that they value as Americans, at all costs.

This country will never recover, will never find itself, if our people are unable to sacrifice for the common good, take smart risks, choose hard rights over easy wrongs, and identify a hill worth dying on. Those are the things America’s combat fallen subscribed to long before making the ultimate sacrifice.

And in the home of the brave, it is why we have remained free. Thank God for those who gave their lives in service of this nation.

“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.” - General George Patton