In war, shared sacrifice united our troops
During some of the worst times in our nation’s history, the fight for equality, civility and respect for marginalized Americans has been waged under banners of many colors. On the sight of those fighting for equality: Upraised fists on grounds of black; knitted peaked beanies of strawberry pink; flags striped in rainbow hues. Those who opposed them chose cryptic words and symbols in a multitude of hues; blazing yellow backdrops with coiled snakes and white robes obscuring shameful bigotry.
But many of the greatest victories have taken place under horizontal stripes of red and white, and fields of star-spangled blue. And they drew much of their strength from the heartbreaking grief of families displaying flags of white, centered with one golden star.
Because even before this nation’s military forces were fully integrated, many who survived their service came back with the realization that they had far more in common with their fallen comrades than they knew before they went to war. On the vast grounds of national cemeteries, the neat rows of graves are differentiated only by symbols of faith. They offer a silent lesson: If Americans slain in battle can rest in equal honor and serenity, why should we be satisfied with anything less for the living?
Honoring sacrifice
Some might argue against this view of Memorial Day, and we understand those objections. Many have been disheartened as they watched a once-solemn occasion cheapened into a chance to score bargains, schedule family celebrations or just sleep in. For others, it’s seen as an extension of Veterans Day, a way to honor all military service or revel in shared, uncomplicated sentiments of patriotism.
But the true meaning of Memorial Day stems from something grimmer, more tragic and to many, more ennobling. It is a time to reflect on war and warriors in one very specific context: The lives lost in this nation’s service — and the causes that give meaning to their sacrifice.
It is possible to honor these fallen warriors without granting virtue to the conflicts that claimed their lives. Over this nation’s history, many of the soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen who died in combat were following orders they had no say in, for conflicts that bore no personal relevance to their lives before they went to war. Some were drafted with no way to escape service.
That does not diminish their terror or their valor. They deserve to be remembered, and to have their lives celebrated. We believe they also deserve a share of the credit for the ways our society has advanced toward peace — not just on the battlefield, but in the cities, towns and rural areas they left behind to grieve their loss.
A quiet, living legacy
Ask most American veterans — particularly those who served in World War II, Vietnam and Korea — and they will tell you that when they went to war, they had never really interacted with people of different ethnicities or faiths. They’ll often follow that by saying that, after a few weeks or months, they came to realize that the pain of every casualty hit with the same force. As barriers dropped for women and people of divergent sexualities, the same spirit of acceptance took root and flowered among those serving in Middle East conflicts.
The results aren’t perfect: The military still fights against racism, sexism and homophobia. But with every step toward greater equality, American service members have responded with far more grace and acceptance than naysayers predicted — born, in large part, from the realization that when an enemy attacks, the person beside them might be the last person they see, or the person who takes the bullet intended for them. When their service is through, many take those attitudes into civilian life.
Denying this connection means stripping fallen Americans of credit for the fruits of their valor. They deserve better, and today is a fitting occasion to remember that.