I was in high school during Vietnam. The draft was winding down by the time I was eligible in 1974, but I remember the boys older than me who went off to fight. They were just kids. One year, they’re second-string football players; the next, they’re toting a rifle through a rice paddy.
Just like their fathers, who were 19 years old and flying in B-17’s over Europe, or their grandfathers in trenches on the Western Front, or their great-grandfathers fighting over the future of what America would look like, they went off to war because their country called. I’m pretty sure that most of them would have rather had another year of girls, sports, and just being young instead of being sent off to die in conflicts started by old men who generally don’t do a lot of the fighting and dying.
There is no sacrifice greater than dying for others. Memorial Day acknowledges those who have made this sacrifice and can no longer hear music. But perhaps somewhere out in the "starlight,” there's enough magic (or whatever else awaits) that this finds its way to those to whom we all owe so much.
Oh, and Jane Fonda (and those of her ilk)—you may kiss my ass.
Associated Press and Idaho Press Club-winning columnist Martin Hackworth of Pocatello is a physicist, writer, and retired Idaho State University faculty member who now spends his time with family, riding bicycles and motorcycles, and arranging and playing music. Follow him on Twitter @MartinHackworth, on Facebook at facebook.com/martin.hackworth, and on Substack at martinhackworthsubstack.com.
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