Memorial Day

Unless I think really hard about it, I can't remember the number of my friends who've died in service to this great nation. There are the ones I knew well; their faces are a collage in my mind. I can't forget them, even if I try, but I don't try. Tomorrow I'm taking my kids to look at a small memorial to one of my friends named Mike. He lost his life while riding to a deployed location in the Middle East when the C-130 he was in landed short of the runway. My other friend Jon held Mike's bleeding head in his lap as he said his last words. Jon wishes he could forget. Then there are those countless ones whom I don't know by name but have shared meals or drinks with or have joked with over the radio or on the TAC phone. I used to say that the desire to get out of the military was directly related to the number of memorial services one attends. Now, I use those smiling faces that float through my head as motivation to continue to serve with honor and do my level best to make sure the living warriors in my care get home safe tonight.

These things we do that others may live...