I DISAGREE! GO ON…

Happy Memorial Day!

One of my Dad’s favorite days.

He was proud of his WW2 Coast Guard service – I finally appreciate the irony of a Nebraska kid serving in the Coast Guard – it was one of his life defining milestones.

Deployed to the Pacific, he didn’t talk about it, other than the typhoon they rode out ship bound, and in a major life regret I didn’t ask.

But perhaps he preferred my lack of curiosity: That veterans don’t talk much about their experience might confirm war truly is hell – who would want to relive that?

He did talk fondly about his service friends, was active in the VFW and American Legion where he formed new friendships, and eagerly participated in services commemorating Memorial and Veterans Day.

And it was a particularly stirring moment when the ‘commemoration favor’ was returned by uniformed veterans, with the 21 gun salute graveside, followed by the precision flag folding ritual – chill bumps as I visualize…

Add another bumps layer recalling my Air Force veteran brother-in-law’s service and his Grandson playing Taps…

Sadly, unchecked on Dad’s bucket list were a ship mate reunion and a Pearl Harbor visit.

If only…

But hearing gnarly war details would have been confusing to 8 year old me – War was FUN!  

It was a card game, a shooting game you could play with just a stick, miniature army men for hours of fun, and John Wayne an Iwo Jima bad ass!

When I later learned war offered international travel without a passport; amazing entertainment: Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Tokyo Rose!  All you could eat K-Ration Spam, all the pot you could smoke – I considered enlisting.

But I was classified 4-Z. In the event of war I’d be an usher at USO shows.

It was perplexing to 15 year-old me when returning Vietnam vets were treated with scorn, the country making the unforgivable mistake of confusing those who fought the war with those who started it.   

As Vonnegut opined “There’d be a lot fewer wars if the men who started them, fought them”.

Fortunately, we came to our collective senses and now honor those who serve, making “Thank you for your service” and the occasional airplane round of applause honorifics.

And while today’s honorees fought for a number of reasons – foremost because their country asked – our fundamental American freedoms sit at the top of the list.

Perhaps the most important Freedom of Speech, a uniquely American right.

Uniquely taken for granted.  

It’s no coincidence that the first thing autocrats target is free speech – – it’s your voice they really want!

Spoiler Alert: All governments – even ours – are envious of this right, ‘knowing’ they can best identify and control ‘mis/disinformation’.

For ‘our own good’, of course.

And yes, our times are “polarizing”, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing – it’s all in how you polarize.

Unfortunately, we polarize loudly, red faced, personally…without listening.

While today is primarily about demonstrating our gratitude, and reverence, for those who made the ultimate sacrifice, a proper thank you is a moment to savor the rights they defended on our behalf.

And how behaving differently might ensure we all continue to enjoy those rights.

So, to truly honor those who died defending our right to speak – even when we disagree- how about we try listening to others respectfully?

No matter their opinion(s).

Have conversations that don’t end with vitriol or “hatred”.

Because we don’t have to agree, we just need to live together.

An appropriate tribute to the ultimate sacrifice.

For 167 more posts like this –each with a wish for fewer Memorial Day honorees – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

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TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:

The Pogues are one of my favorite Irish bands. This might be the best anti-war song ever.

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda  The Pogues

Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915, my country said “son
It’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done”
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun
And they marched me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli

And how well I remember that terrible day
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was waiting, he’d primed himself well
He showered us with bullets and he rained us with shell
And in five minutes flat, he’d blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia

But the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again

And those that were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead
Never knew there was worse things than dyin’

For I’ll go no more waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free
To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve, to mourn, and to pity

But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then they turned all their faces away

And so now every April, I sit on me porch
And I watch the parades pass before me
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reviving old dreams of past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore
They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, “what are they marching for?”
And I ask myself the same question

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard
As they march by that billabong
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?