SSG Juantrea T. Bradley, SPC Tenzin L. Samten, and SPC Dustin C. Jackson. I did not know them personally. But right after I got to the base at Talill, Iraq (March 2008) they were killed by a 107mm rocket that landed right on the pickup truck they were taking to pick up some local workers at the front gate (I was trying to scrub a layer of dust off in the shower at the time of impact. How is that for martial glory?). Two of them died instantly, one made it a few hours more before succumbing to his injuries.

A few days later, their names were added to a memorial wall on base, and their friends and fellow Soldiers told us about them in their eulogies; they were close friends, and someone’s husbands, fathers, and sons. Their stories differed, certainly, but they all came back in the end to the impact they made on their fellows – the NCO who was a friend and mentor (that one really hurt to hear – the pain lent the speaker eloquence and clarity) the cheerful Soldier who never left a comrade without a good word or thought, the soldier with the great and selfless desire to serve and to help. Then the final call of the Roll, Taps being played…it hits home in a way that is hard to describe.

I have known others that have been killed. But that seemed to make it….personal. This hit in a different way. Why them? What the Hell were they doing that was so wrong or so dangerous? They were just getting some guys in to help build a damned gravel road….it wasn’t a bayonet charge against a machine gun nest! But it was a Soldier’s Risk, so you accepted it and moved on. Though I must confess, if I never hear Taps again, I would be fine with that.

But now, on Memorial Day – I cannot help but think about them again. Obviously their families remember them, know what they were doing, and today is but another slightly more sad day than all the others. But does the day set aside for just such remembering have any impact on the thoughts of others?

Certainly, there are solemn ceremonies at various cemeteries and memorials across the country.

My town’s Civil War memorial. The town lost a tenth or more of its military aged men.

But the number of people who have direct experience, so to speak, are lessening. The people who fought in the huge conflicts, in mass conscript armies and navies are becoming rarer, as time marches on. So are the family members who lost a close/immediate relative in those conflicts. Ours (US and Canada – this is glibertarians.com after all) is a professional, and volunteer armed forces. They are also smaller than what has been around for most of the 20th Century to today. Soon enough, it will be my turn to be the white haired, bent with age and infirmity, but-still-attending-the-ceremonies guy. What will I remember?

Those that died during the various wars, police actions, interventions, kinetic whatevers – whether they were conscript or volunteer – paid the highest price anyone can. THAT is what I wish people could remember. You can be vehemently against the involvement the country had in the conflict in which they died, but they didn’t cause that involvement…. They sure as Hell paid for it, though.

You will hear the word “hero” bandied about rather a lot this day. But it doesn’t matter if the person who died was heroically fending off a wave of enemies (i.e. SFC Paul Smith) – or just going to the front gate at Talill to pick up some day laborers? Either way…They lost EVERYTHING. Their families lost their father/son/brother, mother/daughter/sister. Juantrea Bradley and Tenzin Samten never got to see their children again (between them, they had 7 kids). Their children never got to see their fathers ever again.

In some military and veteran circles, it is popular to rail against the mattress sales and “the unofficial start of the barbecue season” and the like. I will not stamp my foot, demanding people be solemn and quiet. Personally, if that Jaish al-Mahdi version of Davey Crockett (SOB was landing 107s on my tiny camp with shocking accuracy from a long way off) in Spring of 2008 had nudged his launches a tiny tap to the left – I wouldn’t be here… and I would want my family to remember me with grilling and toasting with high quality beverages, while throwing around a frisbee or playing volleyball in the back yard.

But do, please, take a moment to remember that a fair number of people over the whole of this last bloody century (or two) have had their lives snatched away because they were put in harm’s way. Just war, unjust war, ambiguous war…it doesn’t matter to the dead. Just remember what happened to them, please.

BONUS RANT: The past few years it has become semi-fashionable for people to say “thank a veteran or someone in the Armed Forces today” – save that for Veteran’s Day, Memorial Day is about the dead. They had life taken from them early – and that should be the primary thing in focus. Oh, and for the people who have started adding in police, firefighters, “first responders” – KNOCK IT OFF.

Oh, and keep yer fookin’ politics out of it, period. I don’t give a fig who was CinC when someone got killed, where or when. Shut yer gob about neo-cons, Islamoappeasers or whatnot. The dead don’t need that crap, nor do their families. Just remember, somebody got the ultimate short end of the stick – and it wasn’t you.