One million one-hundred thousand American soldiers have been killed in the line of duty since The United States of America began.
I am a fireman, not a soldier. My job has its share of risks, but nobody is trying to kill me. Most of the time, anyway. People try to kill soldiers, and are successful so often that we have designated a day to commemorate those who have fallen. In true American fashion, we have turned that day of commemoration into a weekend long summer kick-off party.
IF I were a soldier, and IF I had made the ultimate sacrifice, and IF I could haunt the living I would be manning the cooler, cracking the cold ones for my friends and family, firing up the grill and enjoying every second of the party.
Because what good is dying for people who choose to live on their knees? The fallen fought to preserve something dear to them, and the preservation of what they believed in is what they died for. I know a lot of Armed Service members, and to the man or woman they embrace life, and live it to the fullest-every day, even on the day that we are supposed to be solemn, and remember those who fought and died to preserve our freedom the best way they know how.
By enjoying the gift of freedom.
Please take a moment this weekend to remember the lives that were lost preserving it. A moment of private silence and reflection does it for me.
Then, let the party begin!