FORGOTTEN HEROES!

In one of the greatest documents ever conceived, the Gettysburg Address, these words of Abraham Lincoln portray the true meaning of sacrifice:

"It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.  It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave their last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain."

He was speaking of the brave Americans who gave their own precious lives that our nation might live.

Until September 11, 2001, to most Americans those hallowed words brought forth memories of forgotten wars, of pages in a dusty old history text, thoughts relegated to a shadowy realm deep in the far recesses of their minds.

To most Americans, those sad words brought forth unfocused images of ghostly figures, wearing strange uniforms, fighting and dying on misty far away battlefields of unknown and unknowing horror and destruction.

To most Americans, dying for a cause, sacrificing ones own life so that one's country might live, placing death before dishonor, is still difficult to fathom.

After September 11, 2001, the images of most Americans changed forever. But, to a few Americans those hallowed words have always been the guiding force behind their lives, their honor, their very existence.

They are the brothers in arms who have experienced the mind and gut wrenching agony of, "that horrible moment of decision," that moment when it was their turn to lay down their most valued possession -- their very lives.

You do not know the true meaning of life until the ugly face of death has looked you in the eyes and walked away grinning. Because, for those who fight for it, freedom has a flavor the protected will never know.

I do not see ghostly images or misty fields or the dusty pages of history.

The honored dead I see once lived, laughed, fought, bled, and died at my side.  They are as clear and focused today as they were when they gave their last full measure of devotion on that bloody piece of tortured earth.  And, they were all young, so very young, for their hearts were young and pure.

And we must never forget those who are missing in action. Do their honored remains lie deep in the jungles of Vietnam or in the fields outside some forgotten torture cell? Do they sleep the eternal sleep of peace, or reach out to a nation who has forgotten them?

The dying light in their youthful eyes always asked the same searching question -- "why me?"

Of the many times that I should have joined them in their eternal and honored rest, I have often ask that same question -- "why me?"

Why was I spared?  What small insignificant value do I have that they did not?  Was it the fickle hand of fate, or the intervention of Almighty God?

That I choose to remember these honored dead, is only fitting and just, for they are as much a part of my life now as they were then.  For me they have not died in vain, just as those who died on September 11, 2001, have not died in vain. Their memories not only live through and in us, they will help to sustain us in our bitter hours of trial and tribulation.

And, do I weep for them, for who they were and what they might have been?

Yes!

After 40 years the tears still sting!