Thanks from a Grateful Nation

My father's grave is freshly decorated with an American flag in honor of his service to our great nation. Dad was an World War II army medic in the European Theatre. He assembled field hospitals, carried the wounded and drew blood from patients. I suspect he may have carried for the dead as well. Dad survived the war, as did his three older brothers. Thankfully, the Meyer boys all went on to lead good, long lives.

Dad passed away on 5 December 2005. His funeral was a cold, snowy one. We had record snowfall the night of his memorial service. I remember my shivering mother as she received the carefully and ceremoniously folded flag that draped his casket with the words of thanks from "A Grateful Nation."

We live in "A Grateful Nation" had today honors veterans of all wars. I think about the boys that sacrificed their lives for something bigger than themselves: The United States of America. I think of the boys who survived. They sacrificed their youth and in most recent wars, their future as a result of missing limbs and traumatic brain injuries. I feel sad for the daily struggles of those young men and their families.

Today I shed tears at Dad's grave. Tears for him but tears for all who died and all who live on.

Forever grateful,

Linda

Memorial Day, 2013

 

I thank God for my Grandmother Meyer. Her Bible holds The Meyer Family treasures and each time I turn the pages of her Bible I find a new treasure. Here is a newspaper clipping from 1942 and a photograph of the sons she prayed for.

Alvin, Marvin, Paul, Bob and George Meyer

In Flanders Field – Memorial Day, 2013

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The lards, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields.

By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD

Canadian Army

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, M.D., “In Flanders Field,” Arlington Cemetery

(http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm : accessed 28 May 2012).

These poppies from Flanders Field were a gift from Robert Meyer to his mother. Bob was a World War II veteran who visited Flanders Field in 1941 where he picked these poppies.

His brother, Paul, is a Korean War veteran. He followed his older brother’s lead and sent this Japanese rose home for his mother. Both wartime gifts were obviously appreciated as she preserved they remain preserved in her Bible.

Throughout the generations, our families have been blessed. Sons survived battle and were able to return home safely. My uncle, Richard Dollen, is our only fatality and is the reason why his mother passed out poppies each Memorial Day.

Freedom isn’t free. May God bless those who died in service to our country. May God also bless those who have served, presently serve and those who will serve.

Linda

In Flanders Field

In Flanders Field

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields.

By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD

Canadian Army

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, M.D., “In Flanders Field,” Arlington Cemetery (http://www.arlintoncemetery.net/flanders.htm : accessed 28 May 2012).

This Memorial Day I visited two locations.

In search of  Memorial Day treasures, my first visit was to my Grandmother Meyer’s Family Bible. Dried poppies from Flanders Field were a gift from her son, Robert. Uncle Bob, a World War II veteran, visited Flanders Field in 1941 and sent this poppy home for his mother. My Grandmother preserved another flower; this one came from Korea. Her son, Paul, followed his older brother’s lead and while serving in Korea sent a Japanese Rose home to his mother. Both wartime gifts were obviously appreciated as they were saved in her Bible.

My second visit was to the gravestones my World War II Veteran Father and my Mother. My Father was a medic during World War II. He built hospitals, drew blood and retrieved the wounded throughout Europe. 

For some reason, my father never got on the American Legion Veteran list. As a result, his grave is not decorated with an American Flag. Each Memorial Day I place a flag by his gravestone. I don’t mind.

The cemetery was quiet, as usual, until I heard a single trumpet. A young man standing in the center of the cemetery was playing taps in honor of the veterans of the Town of Maine Cemetery, Park Ridge, Illinois. It was very somber moment. That sound took me back in time to my father’s funeral. I last heard taps played on a very snowy day in December, 2005. 

I must honor my other veteran ancestors of the Town of Maine Cemetery.

The Town of Maine Cemetery has a Civil War Memorial. My family and I passed by this Memorial for my entire life and never realized that Ferdinand Meyer, Civil War Veteran, was a paternal ancestor.

I must also mention my Uncle Dick Dollen. He was killed in an accidental fall while painting his ship in dry dock shortly after enlisting in the Navy. His safety harness failed.

 

With Gratitude For All Those Who Serve.