I was so damn busy that I forgot to sit down and remember my history.
June 6th, 1944. D-Day.
I think it's rather fitting, that on the very day when so many brave men sacrificed themselves to bring freedom to an entire continent, I was practicing the movements and drills to honor a fallen comrade, who gave the ultimate sacrifice trying to bring freedom to yet another continent.
Sixty-three years after the Greatest Generation began the charge into hell, our soldiers, sailors, Marines, and airmen are still going strong. Still fighting against insane lunatics. The tactics may have changed, the enemy may be swarthy and dark instead of blond haired and blue-eyed, but the mentality we fight, the arrogant superiority and quest for world domination - those are the same. And we're still fighting against it. For all our sakes, I hope we continue to fight against it.
Sixty-three years ago, some Sergeant was doing just what I'm doing now - going through the drills, practicing, in order to render honors to a fallen comrade. He had different medals on his chest - perhaps a German Campaign medal, maybe a Pacific Campaign ribbon. But the rank on our sleeves will be the same. It's the Non-Coms who perform the ceremony. Officers can give a speech, but NCO's fire the 21 gun salute. NCO's carry the casket, NCO's fold the flag. Some un-named Sergeant and I, separated by over six decades, but we're doing the same exact things. The very same motions and drills. And for the very same reason:
To honor a fallen comrade. And the Soldiers we honor fell for the same reasons - to fight a mentality that would enslave the world if it could.
God bless those that fell sixty-three years ago. It is from them that we take the inspiration we hold today.
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