Memorial Day 2006 Memorial Day 2006
As Memorial Day approaches, we thought it would be fitting to publish a column that first appeared in print in the Riverland News. The Dunnellon area is home for many veterans, from WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Bosnia, Somalia, Afghanistan, Iraq, and the many unknown conflicts that were part of the Secret Wars.
We have also included General Logan's official declaration order for the first Memorial Day, and some relevant poetry. It is our hope that as we enjoy our holiday this year, that we take the time to remember the true meaning of the day, and honor those gallant souls who left us a legacy of peace and freedom.
In Memoriam
©2005 Robert Randall Burke
Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on May 5th, 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, and was first observed on the 30th of May, 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. Three years after the Union and Confederate guns fell silent, Americans began to commemorate the sacrifice of the Honored Dead, in both the North and the South.
Today, it has come to signify a three-day holiday weekend, a time for partying, the beginning of summer, and special sale days at department stores. By “celebrating” this day in such a way, we shame the memory of those valiant warriors who gave all to secure the freedoms that we now take for granted. Not for all of us, to be sure, but for far too many of us, in fact. Perhaps Americans would treat the day differently if they had actually been there themselves, on the bloody fields of war. Were you there?
Were you there at Valley Forge, freezing in the snow, hunger gnawing at your gut? Were you there at Bull Run, or Manassas, or Gettysburg, when the sound of the cannon was deafening, and you were just a boy of 16, far from your home back in Alabama, scared to death and uncertain of the coming day? Were you in the Argonne Forest when the Kaiser’s troops sent the exploding gas shells into your trenches as you gasped for breath?
Were you at Pearl, when the Japanese dive bombers came swooping in on a bright Sunday morning, leaving death and destruction in their wake? Were you at Normandy on that day in June, when you jumped out of a landing craft into six feet of surf, struggling to stay afloat and make it to the beach? Were you there at Iwo Jima, storming a beach under withering fire, watching your buddies being cut to pieces? Were you at Khe Sanh, surrounded by a NV battalion, hammered by mortar fire, knowing that there was neither retreat nor reinforcement possible? Were you there at the Chosin Reservoir, under attack by thousands of Chinese and North Korean troops?
Were you there in Mogadishu, when the sandstorm sent your chopper spiraling down into the cold dark sandy ground? Did you fly over Baghdad, through a barrage of AA fire in the dark of night? Were you there in the desert, in the sweltering heat, trying to keep the sand out of your weapon as you tried to survive another day? Were you in Kabul, or Tikrit, or Basra?
If you are one of the brave ones who has actually been there, you know what this day signifies. If you were not, you owe it to those who were to respect this special day, and bless their memory, thank them for their sacrifice, and fly our beloved flag high. Many good men died to secure your freedom to do so.
* * * * * * * *
HEADQUARTERS GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC
General Orders No.11, WASHINGTON, D.C., May 5, 1868
i. The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet church-yard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit.
We are organized, comrades, as our regulations tell us, for the purpose among other things, "of preserving and strengthening those kind and fraternal feelings which have bound together the soldiers, sailors, and marines who united to suppress the late rebellion." What can aid more to assure this result than cherishing tenderly the memory of our heroic dead, who made their breasts a barricade between our country and its foes? Their soldier lives were the reveille of freedom to a race in chains, and their deaths the tattoo of rebellious tyranny in arms. We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let no wanton foot tread rudely on such hallowed grounds. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic.
If other eyes grow dull, other hands slack, and other hearts cold in the solemn trust, ours shall keep it well as long as the light and warmth of life remain to us.
Let us, then, at the time appointed gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with the choicest flowers of spring-time; let us raise above them the dear old flag they saved from his honor; let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us a sacred charge upon a nation's gratitude, the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan.
ii. It is the purpose of the Commander-in-Chief to inaugurate this observance with the hope that it will be kept up from year to year, while a survivor of the war remains to honor the memory of his departed comrades. He earnestly desires the public press to lend its friendly aid in bringing to the notice of comrades in all parts of the country in time for simultaneous compliance therewith.
iii. Department commanders will use efforts to make this order effective.
By order of
JOHN A. LOGAN,
Commander-in-Chief
N.P. CHIPMAN,
Adjutant General
Official:
WM. T. COLLINS, A.A.G.
* * * * * * * * * *
The Blue and The Gray
By Unknown Author
"O mother! What do they mean by blue?
And what do they mean by gray?"
I heard from the lips of a little child
As she bounded in from her play.
The mother’s eyes were filled with tears;
She turned to her darling fair
And smoothed away from the sunny brow
The treasure of golden hair.
"Why, mother’s eyes are blue, my sweet,
And grandpa’s hair is gray,
And the love we bear our darling child
Grows stronger every day."
"For what do they mean?" maintained the child,
"For I saw two cripples to-day,
And one of them said he had ‘fought for the blue,’
The other had ‘fought for the gray.’
"The one of the blue had lost a leg,
And the other had but one arm,
And both seemed worn and weary and sad,
Yet their greeting was kind and warm,
They told of the battles in days gone by
Till it made my blood run chill,
The leg was lost in the Wilderness fight
And the arm on Malvern Hill.
"They sat on the stone by the farmyard gate
And talked for an hour or more,
Till their eyes grew bright and their hearts seemed warm
With fighting their battles o’er;
And parted at last with a friendly grasp,
In a kindly, brotherly way,
Each asking God to speed the time
Uniting the blue and the gray."
Then the mother thought of other days,
Two stalwart boys from her riven;
How they’d knelt at her side, and, lisping, prayed:
"Our Father, who art in heaven;"
How one wore the gray and the other the blue,
How they passed away from sight
And had gone to the land where gray and blue
Merge in tints of celestial light.
And she answered her darling with golden hair,
While her heart was sorely wrung
With thoughts awakened in that sad hour
By her innocent, prattling tongue;
"The blue and the gray are the colors of God;
They are seen in the sky at even,
And many a noble, gallant soul
Has found them passports to heaven."
* * * * * * * *
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
The name of John McCrae (1872-1918) may seem out of place in the distinguished company of World War I poets, but he is remembered for what is probably the single best-known and popular poem from the war, "In Flanders Fields." He was a Canadian physician and fought on the Western Front in 1914, but was then transferred to the medical corps and assigned to a hospital in France. He died of pneumonia while on active duty in 1918. His volume of poetry, In Flanders Fields and Other Poems, was published in 1919.