Two Sides to Sacrifice

Fire up the grill! Break out the potato salad and beer. Our friends are going to be over soon. The kids need the slip and slide set up so they can stay cool and busy having fun. Aunt Mary is bringing dessert. I hope it’s edible this year. Keep the scotch put up. Uncle Marty likes it a little too much, and we all know what that means.

This is the American experience, all across the nation today. Millions will be ringing in summer with the Memorial Day cookout. Everyone is in celebration mode for the holiday. But what on earth are we celebrating?

This day should not be for celebrating. It is a somber day. I think we sometimes forget that while some of us are sipping our cocktails, or guzzling them, as the case may be, many of our people are mourning. The best of us have sacrificed their blood, limbs, and lives for their country. No. Not a country. A country is a thing. They gave their youth, strength, and vigor, their families, and their lives for the people in the country. It’s preposterous to say they gave up their lives for a thing. Each and every one of us owes our very lives and the way we get to live them to these fine young men and women. Not all were or are young, by the way. This is and was what is called a noble sacrifice.

It is hard to believe that 250 years ago, a few men and women chose to join an uprising to sever our ties to a monarchy. Most of those men knew they might die. They knew they might lose parts of themselves on the battlefields. They would put much on the line, not just limbs and blood, but their mental well-being as well. Why?

These people were on the cusp of creating something for everyone. They wanted each person to have rights, a say, and to be counted and heard. They did that and made it happen. If you have never read David McCullough’s John Adams, I recommend it. The book gave me a new appreciation for our nation, its founders, and their goal of creating the United States. It is ironic, considering we are anything but. We are still a great nation. There is no nation greater than this one. If you have ever traveled, you understand that. Better yet, you know that.

The men of the time thought forward to future generations. They wanted something for their descendants. Not just their own descendants, they wanted this perfect union for us today. They were not selfish.

When a person gives everything they have, down to their flesh and bones, in sacrifice for a better way, that person or those people should command all our respect. I don’t care whether you were for what they did or not; they chose to lay it all on the line for even those who disdain them. That deserves our honor.

When I think about these young kids who went off and were named or died for that cause, I get emotional. I think about my son. He’s twenty. I think about the life he has only just begun, and what it would mean if it were him who made that sacrifice. Tears come to my eyes. I would be devastated. I don’t know how I would go on without my only son. I know I would, but my life would be a shell of what it was. I think we forget about the ones left behind.

For every man and woman who dies protecting our way of life, there is a wake of dozens left behind. Mothers, fathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, wives or girlfriends, and children all suffer and carry that loss with them. There is a level of bitterness among those whose lives have been forever altered. I can’t blame them. These people are forgotten. Yes, I know we have a habit of including them in speeches, but it’s really just out of obligation, not empathy. When was the last time you saw strangers go to see a veteran’s family and spend the day with them so they might not have to be in mourning all day? Have any of us ever gone to see the widow of a fallen soldier and included her in our own celebration, so we could understand her loneliness and heartbreak? I’m betting not many.

Each year on this day, I feel both angry and crestfallen. I am angry because we keep sending our girls and boys to their deaths. These soldiers are sent into battle for profit. They are sent for the sake of other nations, which need Big Brother to subdue their foes. When did we become this?

President after president has placed our military in positions where they have given up their lives to secure something for someone other than us. Not just that, but for the benefit of corporations that make a windfall from war. They are not given a choice about where to go. Often, they don’t even know where they are being sent, why, or for how long. They should have a choice. Each should be allowed to know all the particulars and make the choice. They are not. They are sent in as a sacrifice.

Government is an entity. It has no qualms about sending someone into the fray. It is there to do a job. The problem is that these days, the job is to be the bully for another country. This is the reason for the current dumpster fire we are involved in.

We went into a sovereign nation that was not at war with us, and we annihilated them. We are still there. I say we, but it’s not we. We are all having a good old time eating watermelon, hamburgers, and hot dogs. The men and women of the armed forces are at war, in war, for something that is not our fight. We were at peace. Iran was not a threat to us. And yet we have now made them a mortal enemy of our way of life. I thought we had progressed as a nation toward something more civilized, but we have not. The savagery continues, and while the men and women who are forced to go do honorable work, the reasons for much of it are not honorable.

Do we really need to see more moms and dads, wives and children, grieving at a white stone in a cemetery, each year, with little flags on each stone? Does it always have to be this way, or does it ever end?

I watched the president place a wreath at the Memorial Day service this morning. I watched as my stomach turned at the fact that he couldn’t even be bothered to lift and carry the wreath to the stand; it will wither there. No, a soldier carried it while he laid his delicate hands on it. He made a speech, which I did not hear a word of. My mind was on the fact that this man has no clue what that symbolizes. Those men and women out there are giving their lives for him, and he can’t lift a ten-pound wreath. He can damage his manicure or suit from rose pricks, shedding his blood for theirs.

I then remembered that this president and many others behind him never served in the armed services. How do they feel about taking orders from someone who doesn’t know what it is like to sleep in fear on a desert floor, with a battalion of his brothers standing watch? It bothers me. I think that if you want to lead our nation and our people, you should know what it is like to serve them and to sacrifice for them. If you cannot give our people that, we should not allow you to lead us. You have no skin in the game.

Over our 250 years, presidents have offered up other parents’ children as sacrifices to their gods. Call it what you will, whether money, politics, world dominion, freedom, or allies, they wage war for all of those things without regard. Send someone else to die for a cause they have no interest in.

Yet they themselves have never placed their hands to the flame. They cowered from any involvement, using a multitude of excuses. They don’t send their own children into the fire. They shield them so they won’t be hurt. Is that what honor looks like? No.

Soldiers make sacrifices for our benefit. They offer themselves up for maybes. Maybe they’ll come home, maybe this will be a short trip, maybe this will be the last war. They make that choice. Politicians use them as sacrifices for their own gain. Two sides of a very worn coin. One has honor and is painted in blood and sweat. The other is an offering of someone else’s blood for their gain. The second is apprehensible. I want our boys and girls home.

I want them all at the picnic table with their loved ones. I am tired of war and of fighting other people’s wars. I want our politicians and government to sacrifice for once. That would be a welcome sacrifice.

To the men and women who put their necks on the line, the fallen, those yet to fall, and their families, I thank you from the deepest part of my heart. I thank you for your sacrifice and for being sacrificed for our nation. I honor you. You are what honor looks like. Thank you.

(My first published piece for No Time on Medium, May 2026)

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