05/30/2019
A thought after Memorial Day.
It is now after Memorial Day and I wanted to make my comments after Memorial Day had passed along with the picnics, barbeques, and the drinking that seems to go with most of the days off that most folks take. I am much older headed to that new milestone, 70 years of age, not quite there but it is right up ahead of me. A long time ago in a faraway jungle I managed to get from there to being headed for 70 thanks to a German Shepherd named “Duke.” I wish he would have been with me when I returned back home as returning to a label of baby killer amongst other similar sentiments was not the best feeling and with Duke I always knew I would be okay.
My thanks to Duke, there have been times when I think he still is watching over me. As for Memorial Day that just passed I wanted to direct everyone to Trace Adkins and his song – “Til the Last Shots Fired”
I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had lead
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til the last shot's fired
In June of 1944
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til the last shot's fired
I'm in the fields of Vietnam,
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin' prayin'
I did not die in vain
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til the last shot's fired
'Til the last shot's fired
Say a prayer for peace (for peace)
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free (set us free)
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary, we're so tired
But we can't come home (No we can't come home)
'Til the last shot's fired
It took me awhile to understand this song, until finally it came to me that those who have served, who have fought for this nation, thosewho know that they have done the most they will ever do for others, in the most in the most horrendous and fearful moments that can possible exist, will always watch over those who come after them to take on the next fight. This transition of being that guiding spirit from one generation to the next will be part of every warrior until the last shot is fired, they are the spirits that are there to comfort us and when life ends to take us home to God who created us.
So again, my thanks to a German Shepherd and ultimately German Shepherds (plural) who was always so much smarter and braver than I. Thank you to my family members who served in World War I – World War II and Korea. Thank you to the Drill Sergeants; the officers and those great helicopter pilots and the guys whom I stood with and who stood with me in the moments where a part of you said I can’t do any more…and somehow we found it in us to do more, always for each other.
It is unfortunate that somehow this day of remembering those who gave it all for all of us has evolved to a long weekend for barbeques and beer. For those of you who do take the time to remember to look up and appreciate what you have and how others did give it all for you, I am grateful to you because that means my brothers who did not come home are not forgotten.