In Memorium

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In observance of Memorial Day, we did not go shopping or have a bbq.  Rather, we spent the afternoon at the Netherlands American Cemetary in the village of Margraten.  Buried here are young soldiers who died 67 years ago in the final months of WWII.  While forgotten by the many of the citizens of their own country, who will spend the day enjoying their freedoms and not once think of why they have them, these young men are remembered by the people they fought to liberate. 

This is only a small fraction of the crowd that was gathered for the memorial ceremony.  And I heard a lot more Dutch being spoken than American English.  In the speeches that were given by various dignitaries, there were many references made to families and individuals who had adopted specific grave and for decades have faithfully visited to pay continuing respect and reverence to the individuals who are buried here.  Many of the Dutch families had actually known the young soldier whose grave they had adopted because this particular area of Europe was liberated early in the end of the war.  The American soldiers often stayed in the homes of the liberated Dutch families and strong relationships grew between them.  Then the soldiers were moved to the front again to finish the war and many of them only returned to Margraten as a final resting place.

As I stood in this beautiful place amongst the carefully maintained graves, I silently cried for all that lay buried there.  I do not know the individual history of even one of these fallen soldiers, but still I cried to know that so much life, so many dreams and potentials, had ended here.  Each of the headstones is engraved with the soldier's name, rank, death date, and home State.  I wondered if they minded resting so far from home; but then I suppose that paying so dearly for a piece of land and then having some peaceful time here as well would create a deep connection between the soldiers and this part of the Netherlands, so that perhaps it was home to them as well. 

So how well are we remembering?  Was Memorial Day just a day off from school?  A day for a picnic in the park?  Perhaps a day for shopping and other materialistic indulgences?  I do not believe that we are remembering enough because the world has not been changed by the millions of lives that have been spent in war.  Remember that America is still at war.  Remember, as you laugh and drink lemonade with your friends on an sunny afternoon, that there are others in this world who have lived their whole lives in war zones.  And while I cannot change the situation of a soldier in Afganistan, or a child in drug running areas of Mexico, I can remember that great sacrifices have been made so that my life may be lived in a country with freedom.