It was my first time actually standing next to the Marine Corps Memorial in Arlington, Virginia, across from Arlington National Cemetery. Most people know it as the Iwo Jima Memorial, the famous flag-raising ceremony during the battle to take the island away from strongly entrenched Japanese troops. The photo was made famous by AP photographer Joe Rosenthal.

Six Marines raised the flag as the battle for the island was still ongoing; their lives would never be the same. Four of the six would die during the battle, and in total, nearly 7,000 Marines would die taking the island from the Japanese troops who refused to surrender. The heroes produced at Iwo Jima were Marine Corps legends to me, a 17-year-old in boot camp.

During the Vietnam War, other legends were made, and that continued with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Those stories of normal, everyday people who, in the crucible of battle, gave their last full measure for their fellow warriors. Some survived, against all odds, to wear the Medal of Honor, the highest award given for heroism in combat.

The living Medal of Honor recipients I’ve met all say they were simply doing their job and wear the Medal for those they served with. All these thoughts were going through my mind recently as I stood before the Marine Corps Memorial. I was honored to serve my country for a season, which was cut short by my injuries. But you’re never an ex-Marine. That title, once earned, cannot be taken away.

Earlier in the day, we had been at “The Wall,” a.k.a. the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, DC. My first visit was over 35 years ago, so it was not as emotional this time. I remember scanning the wall, looking for my friend Danny’s name on the panel. There were too many troops named Danny who died that month, and I couldn’t remember his last name or where he was from. I had only recently been healed of the grief and guilt I carried for so long because good men like my friend Danny did not come home, and I did. I was sad and prayed that Danny’s family found closure for their loss.

I was one of 131 veterans, most of whom served in Vietnam, invited to take part in “Honor Air,” a project whereby veterans are flown on chartered flights to visit the war memorials in our nation’s capital. I don’t know how many organizations there are like this — there was at least one other group from Georgia touring with our group from Tennessee — but I do know that many donors have given generously so we older veterans can be honored for our service.

At the end of the day, I thought the emotional part was over … but it wasn’t. On the way home, they shouted, “Mail Call!” Every deployed service member knows how important mail from home was. I opened my envelope and read little cards and notes from school kids who were writing to “some veteran” to say, “Thank you for your service.”

Then I read the letters from my friends and family. Tears streamed down my face as I was sitting in my seat. I received mail from my wife, my twin brother who is a Navy Cross recipient, and close friends. My longtime friend, Patriot Post Publisher Mark Alexander, and his son, a former Marine officer, also wrote.

Finally, we landed in Knoxville, Tennessee, at about 8:00 PM. The gate area was pretty quiet until we turned the corner to head to baggage. As many as 600-700 people with balloon arches and flags — including veterans young and old and several school kids — greeted us, all saying, “Thank you for your service!” They were shaking hands, patting us on the back, and putting little gifts in our hands — even a box of Girl Scout cookies! Now I was crying and couldn’t speak; all I could do was just nod and mouth, “Thank you.”

I hope there are many other groups doing this around the country. Our WWII and Korean War veterans are almost all gone. We Vietnam veterans are growing older, and many are not healthy. May we never forget the sacrifices made protecting our freedoms! This old Marine was honored to serve this great country.

Something to think about!
Semper Fidelis