The First Reader and I went to a local cemetery (Middletown, Ohio) yesterday and took pictures. They may be gone, but as you will see, never forgotten. It was a peaceful, contemplative time to walk among the fallen lying under the green grass and bright flags. Some were taken too soon, fallen in battles that are all but forgotten. Others, we saw from the dates on their markers, were able to come home and hold onto their families another time before they too were taken.
Every man in uniform is just that, a man. But by donning the uniform he has vowed to protect his country, his family, his friends, with the only life he has. That is what makes him special, and that is why when he falls in our service, we mourn, even if we never knew him in life.