Pouring One Out

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living (Cicero).

I was fifteen years old. My parents had allowed me to leave the humid comforts of home and country and journey to Germany for a year as an exchange student. This year away opened my eyes to a new language, skiing, blood sausage, different viewpoints towards life and America, and, oddly, the real purpose behind Memorial Day.

Sandweiler German War Cemetery, Luxembourg

On the German holiday, Volkstrauertag (held the second Sunday before Advent), my host family took me out to the local war cemetery where we laid flowers on the graves of German soldiers lost in battle. You can imagine--a mere 40 years after WW2--how surprised this Mississippi boy was to find himself placing flowers on the graves of German war vets!  This day was not about the rightness or wrongness of previous wars; there was no grandstanding about, well, anything; going to the cemetery and remembering the dead is, for the Germans, a means of remembering the cost of peace and the victims of arrogance and greed and war.

This was a new practice for me. As with many Americans, Memorial Day is an opportunity for a long weekend, grilling out, finishing the school year, and watching baseball! My family at home had been no exception. I don't know that I can remember any special emphasis towards Memorial Day growing up, except that it meant school was out and Summer was in! This November day in 1985 changed all of that for me, and over the years, Memorial Day has become more significant to me, especially as a military Chaplain.

The value of remembering those lost to the vagaries of war cannot be understated, for in those memories, the dead continue to live. In those memories, the cost of peace is deposited into the social conscience of a nation. In those memories, the dead speak into our lives the truth about freedom, aggression, the dangers of rabid ideology, and the cost of a nation's values.

Military members have a long-standing tradition of remembering those brothers and sisters lost on the fields of battle. Every formal ceremony begins with a Missing Man Table. We remember with plaques and namings (streets, buildings, etc.) those unit members lost to us. We host Memorial Day ceremonies with Gold Star family members and play Taps at the end. Perhaps the most poignant remembrance is when unit members get together and pour drinks, leaving one or more for the missing member(s) to be poured out on the ground  in their memory.

These six are from my time in the service, and ones I "pour one out for" every year:

National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific

2007--A1C Eric Barnes, lost to an IED in Iraq;

2007--TSgt Alejandro Ayala, lost in vehicle accident in Kuwait;

2011--A1C Christoffer Johnson, lost on a security patrol in Qatar;

2013--SSgt Danny Fannin, lost when his plane went down in Afghanistan;

2019--Lt Col Paul Voss and Capt Ryan Phaneuf, lost when their plane went down in Afghanistan.

As you gather together this weekend for BBQs, swimming pools, graduation celebrations, etc., take the time to visit the gravesites of the wartime dead, tell about the lives of those you've lost, listen to the stories others relate to you, and maybe, just maybe, pour one out as you reflect on the cost of all you hold dear.