We have the little joys of life because of the men and women who have sacrificed everything.
We have the little joys of life because of the men and women who have sacrificed everything.
F or most Americans, Memorial Day marks the unofficial beginning of summer. Families travel. Children play. We go shopping and swimming. It’s the kind of scene the Zac Brown Band captured so well in the surprisingly touching lyrics of their song “Chicken Fried.”
Most of the song is devoted to celebrating the simple pleasures of fried chicken and “a cold beer on a Friday night.” But the tone shifts in the song’s final verse: “I thank God for my life,” Brown sings — and for “the ones that give their lives, / so we don’t have to sacrifice / all the things we love.”
That expresses it perfectly. Beneath the warmth of the holiday rests a sobering truth: The joys we experience exist because extraordinary men and women gave everything they had.
That kind of sacrifice is difficult to fully comprehend. Since before 1776, young Americans — often barely adults — have too often been asked to place country above comfort, and principle above survival: The Marine runs toward danger while others run away; the Navy corpsman treats the wounded under fire; the soldier volunteers for one more patrol; the pilot flies away on a mission from which he may not return. And then there are the families who’ve been asked to bear the burden long after their loved one does not come home.
Throughout our history — from Normandy Beach to the jungles of Vietnam to the mountains of Afghanistan — countless Americans have answered that call. They came from every corner of this country: small towns and big cities, farms and suburbs. They carried dreams about futures they never lived to see.
Of course, reflecting on these tremendous costs, one might be tempted to regard it as disrespectful to treat Memorial Day as simply a day off. A few years ago, a USA Today contributor complained about this. “Memorial Day is not a day for celebration,” he wrote. “It is meant to be a day of solemn remembrance,” not “entertainment and fun.” A writer in the Washington Post agreed. Memorial Day shouldn’t be about “grilled meat, super-duper discounts, a day (or two) off work,” and so on.
Of course, it’s true that we should honor the fallen on Memorial Day. But at the same time, we must remember that the reason for their sacrifice was precisely so we could enjoy these blessings of freedom.
Today, Americans are constantly told that we are hopelessly divided — by politics, culture, class, race, religion, and competing visions of the country itself. But generation after generation, Americans have fought together in defense of freedom — precisely the freedom to be with our friends and families, to enjoy our time together, and to relish the simple pleasures of a barbecue or a movie or a trip to the beach with those we love.
The men and women we honor on Memorial Day did not give their lives for a tribal faction or partisan movement. They died defending a constitutional republic and the freedoms that belong equally to every American: the right to speak freely, worship without oppression, raise our families in peace, and pursue our own livelihoods and futures.
Memorial Day reminds us that some things are still worth defending at the highest cost. Some of them are big — the biggest things in the world: liberty, self-government, the eradication of evil. But there were other things they fought for, too — small things. Take Nat Belletoni, a World War II sailor whose letters home are now in the Hoover Institution. “Sometimes when I stand ‘forward’ to watch the sunset,” he wrote to his sweetheart Irene in May 1945, “I can almost feel you beside me, breathing deeply and lovely — I pray for a soon return to you.”
Nat was lucky — he made it home, married Irene, and lived a full life. Many did not, and they would have done anything to share a swim in the pool or some fried chicken with their loved ones one more time.
Ultimately, Memorial Day is not about death — it’s about life. When we gather with friends, play with our children, eat chicken, and drink cold beer, we’re exercising the freedoms so many gave their lives to defend. That, in fact, is just what makes this nation worthy of such sacrifice.