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Remembering all the Willie McBrides

Some things are more important than even football

Memorial Day is a day of contradictory emotions for me. On one hand, I really get annoyed at the self-appointed Memorial Day Police who shame anyone who breaks out a burger or says “Thank you for your service” (THERES A VETERANS’ DAY FOR THE LIVING they exclaim). On the other hand, I never say Happy Memorial Day, because, well, it’s kind of an f’d up thing to say. Memorial Day is after all a day of remembrance for those who died in service to our nation.

Before I retired from the Army and moved to San Antonio I used to walk through the oldest sections of the National Cemetery at Leavenworth, KS. That section contained the graves of Civil War Soldiers and was arranged by date of death. I would replay the words to “Green Fields of France” as I walked the long rows of white headstones echoing for one last time the command “Dress Right, Dress!”.

How do you do, young Willy McBride

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