"FALLEN HEROES!"

I ask all of you this question: What cannot be replaced? We all have favorite things; I have photos and some sports collectibles that I'm very fond of, but I would not be scarred for life if I lost them through some minor tragedy. Things are only things, and nothing more!

When I was in Alabama, at Fort McClellan, I had an opportunity to see the men who were the drill team at Arlington Cemetery. I had a rough day of dealing with trainees and I was tired, but after some persistent pestering from a fellow NCO, I went to watch those soldiers train in drill and ceremonies. I will never forget how great this group was. Each trooper was in step and sequence to one another; each looked like a recruiting poster and all of them were dedicated to be the best. After their drill was over, I talked to some of them, and I was impressed; America could be very proud of those young men. They go through special selection and requirements to become a member of this select group. They each have to take classes on the history of Arlington Cemetery, and be able to answer any questions from visitors when asked.

Arlington is one of America's most revered places. Its rows of graves represent soldiers, marines, sailors and airmen who have given their lives in the protection of America's freedom. I have some friends who rest at Arlington. Richie went to high school with me, he was a year older than I; he was a great guy. Richie had an older brother named Steve, who was also a great guy. Steve enlisted in the Marines and served in Viet Nam, with honor, like his big brother, Richie enlisted in the Corp. We all kidded him about being careful and not "messing his pants" in battle; everyone laughed. Nobody laughed when we heard that Richie was killed in battle. We knew we wouldn't see him again; no more jokes, no more friendly conversations; only an empty space where a good kid once stood. Mike was my first squad leader; he was from Chicago and we would compare notes on "hot dog joints" across the city, and where the best pool halls were. I was home when I heard Mike was killed while eating his noon meal under a tree. Mike and Richie are now part of a unique brotherhood; those who traded life for freedom. John was a very good friend, we played little league baseball together; he was a role model before the term role model existed. John was a Captain in Special Forces. It took John a little while to suffer from the war; John got cancer from Agent Orange, and it took him twenty years to die for his country; I still think of him today.

Monday is Memorial Day; it is for men like Richie, Mike and John. I'm glad there are troopers who are specially trained to watch over these fallen heroes; these men most certainly deserve this. I'm sure I'm not the only man who has stories like Richie, Mike and John; there are thousands of them. WWI, WWII, Korea, Viet Nam, Desert Storm and now our current conflicts continue to produce martyrs for freedom and country. Have a wonderful holiday on Monday; never forget what it means, or the price that has been paid. This holiday is really for them, you know.

(This is my last blog til Tuesday, have a good holiday, remember a veteran.)