On Memorial Day

On Memorial Day

I celebrate my father. A veteran of the Vietam War, infantry man in the Big Red One brigade that went out so early in the war most didn't know who they were fighting or where Vietnam was located. The war changed his life and, I believe, led to his death. He died last year from esophogeal cancer. Some suspect the chemicals used in the war (agent orange, for example) are linked to cancer. I know for a fact that the war changed my dad's life and that he probably would have led a much healthier life without the war. He told me about how he didn't smoke, but cigarettes were provided for the soldiers and they would take smoking breaks where everyone who wanted to smoke could go smoke under the shade while everyone else had to stand in line in the sun until they were done. That's when he began to smoke. The war traumatized him, led him to make poor decisions, shy away from committment and responsibility, and become an alcoholic. So, despite the fact that my father's name will not be added to any war memorial, I will celebrate his life and remember his passing every memorial day. Thanks to war.