Reflections on Independence Day
Often times as I stand at the graveside during a funeral service I see an American flag draped over a coffin. I hear the sounds of taps played.
Occasionally there is even a sound of rifle volleys being fired in tribute. The community is saying thank you to one who gave themselves in service of our nation.
As we approach another celebration of Independence Day we would do well to thank those who have given of themselves in defense of our freedom. There is one veteran, an old sailor that I remember today that is special to me. While I certainly said thank you to him many times over during his life for what he did as my father, I don’t believe that I ever said thank you to him for what he did as a member of the United States Navy during the Second World War.
He didn’t talk about the war a great deal. It seems to me that most of that generation never talked about what they did. Rather they bore the heroism with great dignity, modesty and humility.
My father served on an aircraft carrier in South Pacific during the war. My mother tells me that occasionally he would awaken from his sleep mumbling something while a cold sweat poured down his face. She would know that the Japanese were shooting at him yet again. He didn’t like war movies particularly because it was a painful vivid reminder of what he had endured.
Once he took me to the Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola, Fla. He showed me the type of plane on which he flew as a flight mechanic. I have long since forgotten the combination of letters and numbers that made up the name of the plane. What I do remember is the small cramped space in the belly of the plane in which he had to lie in a prone position while the plane was in flight. I understood the horror of battle when I saw it.
Yet, he went willingly. He didn’t wait to be drafted; when Pearl Harbor came he signed on the dotted line. As a young boy in the late sixties and seventies I remember the disdain that he had for those who burned draft cards or fled to Canada to avoid the call to be of service. I don’t believe that he was disappointed in me for not entering the military. My times were different from his.
We keep his mementos in our basement in an old suitcase. I take them out from time to time and look at them and share his story with my daughter. I have always been surprised at the reverence in her countenance when she looks at these pieces of history.
No one thinks a war is good thing. In fact war is a sign of the failure of humanity to live in accordance with the will of God. Even so, there are times that in order for justice, righteousness and freedom to reign they must be defended.
I love our nation. It sickens me that there are those in our country that assume the worst about our nation. It saddens me that there are those that live in this land and enjoy our freedoms that possess an almost visceral hatred of our own nation that stands for justice and righteousness.
I remember what the old sailor always said, “This country may not be perfect but you will never find a better one.”
Today another generation of young men and women patrol the streets of Baghdad, the desert sand of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan in the name of our nation. They too volunteered their services; none were drafted. As we celebrate yet again the birth of our nation we should remember the debt of gratitude that we owe them.
I won’t claim that God loves us more than any other nation. In fact, God loves us no more than he does the terrorist. What I will do is thank God for one old sailor that gave his all. I will thank God for the countless men and women that have worn and still wear the uniforms of this nation.
I will pray that our nation though not perfect will remain a beacon of freedom, justice and righteousness. I think the old sailor would appreciate that.