Why is Thad Glad?

COVID-19 has led to the unfortunate cancellation of sports, graduations, gatherings with family and friends.  Another casualty is Memorial Day parades and ceremonies. I will miss Memorial Day events in Grayslake, Illinois.

For me Grayslake, founded in 1895, is ‘Hometown USA’.  It is a smaller northern suburb of Chicago, once surrounded by farmland. Restaurants and small businesses line our main drag, Center Street, in a way that you might expect in similar towns across the country. Like many ‘Hometowns,’ Grayslake celebrates Memorial Day with a parade.  Our parade ends at Memorial Park, a short walk from my home.  Following the parade, we have our Memorial Service near a monument with the names of nineteen village residents killed in the World Wars, Korea, Viet Nam, Iraq and Afghanistan.

I have several fond memories of our parade.  I marched in it with my kids as members of the YMCA Indian Guides and Indian Princesses Programs.  I enjoyed coffee, donuts, and at least one beer in a neighbor’s driveway as a spectator. I marched in the parade’s color guard with members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars and the American Legion. I always attend the ceremony following the parade. As a Marine Corps veteran, attendance feels like required duty. I take the ceremonies seriously.  I stand at attention during the national anthem and remove my hat. I remain silent and reflective during the speeches. I notice people who do not.  I also notice the people who attend the parade but skip the ceremony. I judge them all unfavorably.  If I am being honest, I used to do this somewhat superficially. In my war, Desert Storm, I fortunately did not experience the loss of fellow Marines or the sustained fear of death that many faced in other wars.

That superficiality changed about ten years ago when the parents of Sean Maher were honored during our ceremony. Sean, a nineteen-year-old Marine, was killed during an ambush in Iraq in 2005. While I did not know Sean or his parents.  I mourned their loss.  Overwhelmed by sadness, I cried. That day continues to be one of the saddest of my life and I think about the Mahers every Memorial Day.

I grew up during the Cold War.  I loved the physicality and self-discipline demanded of success in sports.  I was naturally drawn to the military. I rode the wave of patriotism as President Reagan brought renewed purpose and investment to the military. Like many young males, I had an idealistic and romantic view of war. I wanted adventure, to be part of something bigger than myself, and to prove myself while serving a great cause. Preparing to battle the Soviets seemed like that cause. Fighting and risking death to protect our way of life seemed noble.  

Following the 9-11 attacks, I suspect Sean saw clear purpose in service and a more urgent need to serve. According to the Chicago Tribune, he enlisted in 2003 as soon as he turned 18 and as the US began its invasion of Iraq.  He started boot camp two months after graduating from high school. Sean’s war was once called the Global War on Terror. What could be a more noble cause?

I once considered death in the military as an occupational risk. I knew people who had died, mostly people who attended the Naval Academy or Marine training with me. While I mourned their deaths, I did not have the same sadness that I felt for Sean. Those other deaths were personal to me in the sense that I related to them from my own point of view. In my younger days, I was theoretically prepared to die in service. I projected this willingness on others and rationalized that they died doing what they loved – sad but understandable and noble.

Sean’s death was different or me. Sean was not my age; he was much younger.  I could not imagine him as a peer. As a father of two, I could only imagine him as a son. I mourned his death from an imagined perspective of his parents. His loss felt unbearable to me, a total stranger. His death did not seem understandable or noble. It seemed tragic. I cannot imagine how it felt to his parents. How could they continue with life after suffering such a loss? I do not know but suspect they are enduring it one day at a time. Parents of dead warriors have had to do so for generations.

The United States has been at war in the Middle East for nearly 20 years. While we have not had another 9-11, I do not think that security has been worth the price.  We have spent trillions of dollars, lost thousands of lives, while tens of thousands of veterans live with debilitating physical and mental injuries. It is also likely that our young men and women have killed hundreds of thousands in our service. Associated conflicts created millions of refugees and displaced people. Overall, the Middle East is mostly a more dangerous and less humane place than it was before our involvement.

Many people fault George W. Bush. Certainly, the buck stops with the Commander-in-Chief and I do blame him and his advisors.¹ I blame Congress.  The House and Senate voted to authorize the war in Iraq.  In the Senate, 58% of Democrats voted for the authorization. It was a bipartisan mistake. I blame myself and I blame the general population, because most people supported the invasion of Iraq. We collectively reacted out of fear and anger. Terrorists had already attacked our mainland and another terrorist state apparently had weapons of mass destruction available for use against us. Terrorists had to pay. To paraphrase Tobey Keith’s song ‘Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American),’ we needed to put a boot in their ass. It is the American way.     

The purpose of Memorial Day is to honor and mourn those who died in service to our country. We should take time to remember those heroes. We should also take time to honor their lives by embracing the responsibility of citizenship and creating a nation worthy of their sacrifice. I think Lincoln said it best at the end of his Gettysburg Address:

‘…It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.’

I believe in the principles upon which the United States was founded. I believe freedom is not free and that freedom occasionally demands service and sacrifice. I believe that we can feel safe because young people like Sean will always be ready to fight and die to protect our country. They are a valuable resource and we should protect them too.

I worry about the judgement of our leaders, especially related to decisions about sending our sons and daughters to war. I think that they often care most about getting or keeping power. I think you will agree that our political parties are severely divided. Perhaps they are too divided because we are too divided.  Perhaps we get the leaders we deserve, because we do not care enough to elect better ones.

Maybe we can honor our dead service members by reducing our division, treating each other better, and being more serious about our role in democracy. Maybe we can choose wisely on election day by voting for capable people who have integrity and are committed to smartly fixing things. Those people may not be running but we still have choices. Maybe, just maybe, November 3rd can be our re-scheduled Memorial Day celebration.

¹I also blame President Obama for removing forces from Iraq too soon and permitting the rise of the Islamic State, which necessitated renewed American fighting. Involvement in Libya has not produced good outcomes either. Maybe we have learned our lessons on regime change and nation building.