Memorial Day

We are neither team players nor good with authority figures, so it should come as no surprise that we don't really get the whole military thing. Not that the thought of tearing down ones individuality to reshape them into a highly-trained, easily replaceable piece, doesn't sound awesome, but it's just not for us. However just because we don't get it, doesn't mean we don't respect it.

A few years ago, we were backpacking through France, and decided to make a pilgrimage to the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. You may know it as the cemetery at the beginning and end of Saving Private Ryan, where old Matt Damon, and his smoking hot granddaughters, visit Tom Hank's grave. Anyway, the cemetery was part of a tour we took that included visiting the historic beaches and bunkers of D-Day. It was an incredible experience that was made even better because our sole accomplice that day was a young man named Danny, from Riverside, California, who had just finished up his commitment to the Marines, and a tour in Iraq.

He was not like us--a minority, tough-as-nails, no college, strikingly handsome, well-spoken and of-course a Marine. He was just like us--early 20's, pensive, cynical and skeptical of the Iraq thing, nuts about French chicks (there are none sexier), and unsure of how he'd react to the picturesque hills of white crosses (and Stars of David) which we were about to see.

Like Danny, we arrived with excitement but were fearful of a star-spangled propaganda outpost, but our fears were quickly vanquished, because the cemetery could not have been more beautiful and appropriate. The reverence and veneration that the place inspires is incredible and getting to be there with a serviceman of our generation was truly Memorable.

We plan on spending the remainder of this holiday watching Band of Brothers, while horizontal and intoxicated, but before we go, a whole-hearted thank you to the men and women who have put their lives on the line, for causes (right or wrong, just or unjust) bigger than themselves.