Im remembrance and gratitude
You are men and women from all walks of life, with nothing in common, except that at a critical moment in your life, you decided to wager it all for the sake of your country. Some of you volunteered, some of you were drafted during hours of that country's need. Some of you have been shamefully treated by the country you served, for matters of skin color, sex, sexual orientation, but you served anyway. Some of you never came home and there are holes in your families where you were to be. Some of you came home broken in body or mind, never to live the life that could have been before you signed your name to that contract.
My grandfather, Ray Theodore Wilken never came home. I never knew him for he died in 1943, flying a B-17 over France, a plane that was insufficiently armed to defend itself against the German fighters that killed him. I have come to know some of the story of his last moments. This young man, with his life ahead of him, a young bride and newly born daughter at home found it within himself to stay at the controls of a burning aircraft, struggling to keep it in just enough control to allow his fellow crew to escape. Evidence suggests that he must have been burning at the time, something I cannot even imagine. His nerve and love for his crew was sufficient that three escaped who should have died, to make it back through German lines to England.
Today, I live in a world where the concept of a just war seems far away, and where so, so many people have been marked by war in terrible ways. I cannot love war, and it must be a great loss to all when we fail at taking care of one another so badly that we feel we must up weapons and fight one another.
But today, and indeed every day, let me salute those who have worn the uniform and gone out into the dark so that I and my family might live in peace. I can't put my arms around each and every one of you, you are so many and I am only one person. But know, whether you are in harm's way right now, or home safe, or somewhere in between that I honor you in love and humility, as one who was not able to serve in this way. May your lives be filled with joy. May those around you remember and honor you. And to those of you who didn't come home, rest well in our hearts. We do remember.
My grandfather, Ray Theodore Wilken never came home. I never knew him for he died in 1943, flying a B-17 over France, a plane that was insufficiently armed to defend itself against the German fighters that killed him. I have come to know some of the story of his last moments. This young man, with his life ahead of him, a young bride and newly born daughter at home found it within himself to stay at the controls of a burning aircraft, struggling to keep it in just enough control to allow his fellow crew to escape. Evidence suggests that he must have been burning at the time, something I cannot even imagine. His nerve and love for his crew was sufficient that three escaped who should have died, to make it back through German lines to England.
Today, I live in a world where the concept of a just war seems far away, and where so, so many people have been marked by war in terrible ways. I cannot love war, and it must be a great loss to all when we fail at taking care of one another so badly that we feel we must up weapons and fight one another.
But today, and indeed every day, let me salute those who have worn the uniform and gone out into the dark so that I and my family might live in peace. I can't put my arms around each and every one of you, you are so many and I am only one person. But know, whether you are in harm's way right now, or home safe, or somewhere in between that I honor you in love and humility, as one who was not able to serve in this way. May your lives be filled with joy. May those around you remember and honor you. And to those of you who didn't come home, rest well in our hearts. We do remember.