There is a picture that I found last January while moving that is one of the most cherished items in my possession. If a fire were to break out in my humble abode, it, along with my encased American flag would be on the short list of items to take with me as I run out the door.
The photograph was taken when I was in junior high and includes yours truly standing in between my two grandfathers, both veterans of foreign wars. They’re both deceased now, but their memories and legacy flow strongly in my blood. The backdrop is the cemetery in my hometown and was snapped immediately following a service on Memorial Day at the veterans’ plaza.
more musings below the fold…
A smirk grows on my face when I see my adolescent-self dressed in my class A Boy Scout uniform, weilding the alto saxophone that I used to provide an echo during the playing of Taps at the commemoration. I can still remember the dampened eyes of the people gathered when those piercing notes carried in the air.
You see, I never realized how much military training I received in Scouts, or at least I had forgotten it, until a couple of weeks ago when I DJed an ROTC Military Ball for high school students. As I watched the color guards process in with the colors as well as perform rituals to hand over leadership to a new class of officers, I was struck by the familiarity of the movement, the language they used and just the all-around environment.
The past few years have been hard for Americans (to provide an understatement). I’m not sure if my international friends can know fully the dissonance that many of us are experiencing; especially as it relates to our military. Story upon story of atrocity has been met by disbelief from those of us who grew up either serving in the armed forces, or as children/grandchildren of veterans. There is a strict code of camaraderie that I think goes unspoken for the most part, it is what binds a unit together; it is that unbroken bond that will send them back into a warzone to make sure their straggling friend is not left behind or stops their hand from mistaking innocent bystanders for “the enemy”.
The code also involves a sense of honor, echoed by the mantra of the Boy Scout Law: A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent.
While I understand those types of virtues are hard to swallow when they’re being recieved at the end of a weapon in a warzone, its the inner-formation of a soldier/scout that I wish to highlight with this post. I never got a chance to talk to either of my tatas about the details of their military service and I deeply wish I would’ve gotten that opportunity. For now I will have to settle for the huge lump in my throat as I type these words; recalling the caring, loving men they were until they left this world.
This Memorial Day is going to be difficult for the American people, at least I feel it should be. The armed forces are being guided by bi-partisan leadership that has lost all semblance of personal responsibility and how it relates to the usage of force. I believe, and I find that I’m joined by a growing number of veterans, that the unspoken code of honor has been breached. It is resulting in widespread bloodshed and anguish in our world. I fear that the global system is going to get much uglier as it corrects itself and puts American imperialism and neo-con led “democratization” in its place.
It must happen though, balance must be restored, the code upheld. As I/we await that day, I will simply use this Memorial holiday to watch the silent glow of the candle I lit near my Eagle Scout flag and the picture of my abuelitos to remember all of the lives who have been lost in the name of war. Lives that transcend all borders, ethnicities, genders, religions, etc. Lives that are tied together by our humanity. By remembering, I strengthen the resolve within myself to work towards making sure that I, and the people I surround myself with, will work towards Peace and bridge-building.
On this day, I honor those who honored themselves by remembering that the human spirit’s power is best wielded when we live our lives in such a way that everyone who comes in contact with us feels an obligation to be a better person themselves.
Rest in peace, abuelitos
from my humble blog where I spent another sleepless night contemplating the world around me.
That’s a great photo!
what you can do to them to help bring out the emotions they evoke.
Would surely be proud of you Manny. To have such a man in their family.
I’m a vet. Not during war-time. I remember believing in America then. As I mindlessly prepared to fight the Soviets. But I remember, even then, in the height of brainwashed testosterone thinking that those Reds probably felt like I felt. That they’d rather be home with their families. That nobody wanted a nuclear war. That there was no reason we couldn’t be friends.
And I remember, even then, being taught that U.S. soldiers stood for right. No shooting prisoners. No torture. Fuck. There was honor. Guess that all breaks down when the bombs start falling.
Why can’t we learn. So many living — in this country — have already done this once. Have lived through a war that stood for nothing. War is ugly, ugly death. Has always been. Glorified by the state. But known as an evil by the soldiers — a rarely justified evil.
I’m sick of this. I want a show of hands. I know we are all sick of it. Even your granddads I bet.
Nite.
my hands are raised, my friend. I guess the point of this particular screed was to expose that disconnect that I’m feeling so that I can somehow muddle my way towards reconcilitation with Peace.
I’m not sure if my international friends can know fully the dissonance that many of us are experiencing; especially as it relates to our military.
I think some of us can. Or, at least, we’re willing to try.
I know, and the willingness to listen from all directions is what’s needed in these dark times. It’s the only way we’re going to stop the killing.
I wonder what the difference is between the U.S. and other countries as it relates to the glorification of the military. Here we have the dangerous addition of religious (read Christian) churches equating a follower’s strength of faith to the yellow ribbon campaign and Supporting our Troops™ I am beginning to realize just how far down the path we’ve been on towards fascism, without most of us even realizing that we’ve helped its efforts.
Anywho, just more rambling from a guy who got way too much rest this weekend. (not that I’m complaining) 🙂
I used to think that the US stood alone when it came to the glorification of the military. I’ve always been surprised at the way military service is viewed as ‘serving your country’, even amongst the left, and that veterans are universally greeted with ‘thank you for your service’.
The last few years, I’ve been noticing a growing glorification of the military in Australia. I think this has been very deliberately promoted and exploited by the government. There have been growing attendances at ANZAC Day ceremonies (Aust & New Zealand equivalent of Memorial Day) and a massive interest from youth in making a pilgrimage to attend ANZAC Day ceremonies at Gallipoli in Turkey.
Oh, and thanks for the great writing, Manee!
the insight into what’s going on in your hemisphere, canberra. That shift is something that has been in the works for decades here in the U.S. It makes for a dangerous situation where the public will support anything their armed forces do in battle. While the readership here at BT is probably an exception to that since we’ve been exposed to so much ‘alternative’ news, there is alot of propaganda de-bunking and re-thinking needed among our fellow citizens.
I was listening with disgust to John McCain on CNN earlier and noticed how he worked in “shining beacon” and “envy of the world”-type language into his justification for the Haditha atrocity; relegating it to the bad apple bin.
There is much work to do…
Canada doesn’t tend to glorify its military. The soldiers are basically seen as a necessity and Canadians much prefer that they be involved in peacekeeping missions, which has made our continued presence in Afghanistan very uncomfortable for most of the public.
We’re not a loudly patriotic people. Instead we are just quietly proud of our country in a way that I think states a certain reserved reverence and humility.
Thanks for sharing your perspective … My dad never wanted to talk about his time in the Philippines, except for the getting drunk and goofy moments. Just something he rarely spoke about at all.
After he died, my mom and I were cleaning out his dresser and found a bunch of photos from his time in the Philippines. Some of them were not so pretty. Piles of bodies, skewered people, you get the drift quickly. We were shocked. No one ever knew about this, and no one said anything. One in particular stood out to me… it was a shot of a jeepful of soldiers driving through a gate that had a huge sign that read Kill the Bastards! on top.
I wonder how many other families have unspoken war histories hidden away as well? The only photo I kept of that time was one of my dad on a beach, wearing a cocoanut bra and grass skirt, mugging for the camera. The dad I never knew, and always wished I had.
paz, amigo… beautiful writing as always.
my tata on my dad’s side, who I’m named after, hated flies in the house. He wouldn’t rest until it was either let out a door or swatted. I only learned a couple of years ago that it was because they provided a memory trigger for his time in Korea. Perhaps it’s a good thing I don’t know the details.
Manny. No more needs to be said.
reading, Intrepid. Paz
My dad was just a couple of years too young to serve in WWII and too old for Korea. My high school class was the first one after the draft ended, so my younger brothers didn’t go to Vietnam.
But I remember being visited just after college by a friend from Germany. One night we watched “All Quiet on the Western Front” on TV together. Afterwards we talked about war and the fact that, but for a few years difference, our fathers could have been trying to kill each other. It was truly a sobering moment.
thanks for sharing that. The last time I had a really good cry was on Thanksgiving night. I had just left a friend I consider a brother who was telling me through tears that he didn’t want to go back to Iraq for a second tour. He and his wife had been struggling at the time and on the verge of divorce because she hated being a ‘military wife’, stationed so far from our hometown and her family/friends. So he was dealing with that, the fact that he would be leaving his two children, both under 2 years old, and going to fight in a war he didn’t truly understand but knew was wrong.
I wept because I was watching the forces of war slowly erode the life that I’ve come to know in our years of friendship. We’ve shared letters but I can sense the shadow over him. As I mentioned in a comment on my blog, war is destructive on all levels.
thx for reading, NL. Paz
Truly, does a “great country” really need a military? I don’t think so anymore. Only a cowardly, hypocritical country needs to gun down it’s political enemies.
No more soldiers in our schools. No more recruiters stalking our students like horny child molestors.
Simply… no more war.
I no longer trust the military. I don’t even trust policemen anymore. It’s hard to once you see them in their riot gear at a peace event. … no, I no longer support the war machine. No more.
I am moving down a path that is seeing all of my old ‘comfort zones’ uprooted. I’m filled with disbelief as I read about my cherished Scouts discriminate against gay scout leaders, or my Catholic church who has united politically with the most abhorrent factions of the right wing.
I’m moving down a rocky path where even the faith I had in my country and servicemen/women has been shaken and stirred, but there’s still that tiny speck of sand glowing in my palm (think Neverending Story) that gives me hope that somehow Peace and balance can be restored.
I know what you mean about the distrust, especially wrt to the police. After the whole incident at the immigration rally last month with the Mexican flag-burning jerks, I had a long talk with my godson (who’s a few months older than me) about my feelings. He’s a sheriff deputy, different county than me so wasn’t there that day, but it was a good reminder that I needed to stop and think before condemning any and all officers who wear the police uniform for the actions of the few that day.
Keep up the great work, DJ, but remember that Peace begins within. Paz, mi amiga.
Wow, I feel like a total waffler today. lol, guess I need to drink some coffee.
My mistrust stems from self-preservation. Distrust doesn’t mean I don’t respect the ones that do their jobs without beating up people. I no longer have that wide-eyed trust of authority figures anymore. My childhood ideas have been uprooted, too. I grew up in the military. What I do now is so foreign to me… I have to constantly center myself – even on the way to protests…
I try not to be bitter… but I am no longer trustful of those that are supposed to serve and protect.
This weekend I took a huge step… I’ve been trying to hold onto that speck of sand. Wanting to believe that I may not believe in Christianity/G-d but I would like to learn more about Jesus… This weekend.. I had enough and I denounced G-d and Jesus and the need for me to look outward for peace and “salvation”.. instead I’m going to find it from within. I just could no longer abide with the hate, the torture, the rapes, the killings, the racism, the fundamentalism of it all. It’s just not worth it to me anymore. I’ve quit searching. You might say that Bush killed Jesus.
I’ve found my family via marchers, protesters and “bloggers”. You Manny are closer to me than any family member of mine (excepting my own brother) Many here are that way to me.
I come here for the “news”…
I also come to my friends for “ideas” on spirituality. They share with me, they don’t expect me to convert or condemn… and I think it’s much healthier for me that way. My “family” is my “church”. If that makes any sense.
sense, and I’m honored to count you as one of my siblings. I may be an only child, but I have more brothers and sisters than I could ever count. Life is more enriching when it’s spent learning from others, which is what draws me here too. Paz, DJ (and watch out for giant, sneezing turtles) :O)
Ideas can be shared and changed and shared some more…
Beliefs – hell people will die and kill for those if one ever suggests changing. I think that’s from the movie “Dogma”. So I like to say I have “an idea” 🙂
Pssst…. you might also like
Willow
Princess Bride
You might say that Bush killed Jesus.
Indeed.
Yup.
He’s killed so much. Education, environment, health care, … I say that he’s King George with the Midas Flush – everything he touches turns to shit.
I’ve given up on “religion”…. my husband has turned out all his military momentos.