Memorial Day: We know the faces

Memorial Day: We know the faces

Whenever I see a photo of a U.S. Marine, my mind is transported back to 40 years ago.

I know about the bedtime ritual, every recruit lying at attention in his bed, staring upward and reciting or singing in unison the Marine Corps Hymn.

I know about the bedtime ritual, every recruit lying at attention in his bed, staring upward and reciting or singing in unison the Marine Corps Hymn.

I also know about the feelings of small personal victories of spurts of achievement, the joy of NOT being singled out by a DI.

There were no secrets in our training platoon. Everyone’s character stood out as naked as a newborn guinea pig.

Whenever I hear about a Marine that dies, I feel I have lost a brother of shared experience. I weep when I see his face — because I know it is my face.

I was a child of the 1960s. When President Kennedy was assassinated in 1963, my second-grade teacher announced it to the class.

But, that kind of innocence faded in the tumultuous discontent of the mid-to-latter 1960s.

The inference was that if one supported the military actions and postures of the U.S., he or she was pro-war.