Well, I spent the Memorial Day holiday by myself. I was disappointed that I did not get an invite to my nephews do and was feeling pretty down. I was probably overlooked in all the preparations. My brother told me he was not invited either and spent the day after work with his friends in Hanford. He told me that the people there were all my nieces family and in the 20 to 30 range. I would have hated it but it would have been nice to have been asked.

Anyway I got to thinking about the true meaning of Memorial Day and realized that it was more than a picnic or BBQ with family and friends. It is a day for honoring the men and women who have been wounded or have died in defense of this great nation.

I opened up a very, very closed part of my mind and went back to my days of service in "The Nam". I remembered the friends who did not make it back and those who would never be the same from that horrible experience. I remembered the smell of the jungle and the constant fear while one was out in the "bush". I remembered the heat and the exhaustion from carrying my weapon, four canteens of water, your basic load of ammo, plus two hundred rounds of machine gun ammo in two belts strung over your shoulders. I remember cooking my c rations by burning C-4 in a tincan to heat them to make them easier to eat.I remember the flies, the snakes, and the rats that were everywhere. I remember the sixty pound pack cutting into my shoulders while I walked the point scared to death when I first got there and was a "cherry". I remember the fire fights and fighting my way up a hill to dislodge some men who were probably as scared as I was at the time. I remember dragging our dead back to where the "man" had set up his headquarters to be put into body bags for the long ride home to their graves. I remembered the relief when we heard the choppers coming to take us back to base camp and I had survived another day fighting "the beast" (the NVA and Cong). Most of all I remember the friendship of my fellow soldiers who would do anything for one another, There were so few of us in the end to get on the Freedom Bird to go back to Gods Country. I am proud of what I did in Vietnam and no bastard can take that away from me or any other warrior who fought there!

True patriotism is not "hanging" in there when you know the sun is shining at the end of a tunnel. True patriotism is "hanging" in there when you know the sun will never shine again!