This is a picture of my Uncle Marion. He was a Staff Sergeant in the Army. He was killed while serving his country in Rodgen, Germany during World War II. He entered the service in August of 1942. He received his training at Camp Roberts, California and was sent to England in May of 1943. He fought in the Battle of the Bulge, served in France, Belgium, Holland and Germany. He was awarded the Purple Heart. Uncle Marion was killed when a fellow soldier offered his gun to hold onto as he was climbing out of a tank. The gun accidentally discharged. Amazingly enough, Tim's Uncle Earl was killed the same year also by friendly fire.
I always think of him on Memorial Day, a day that it is set aside to reflect and honor those who have given their all in service to their country. As far back as I can remember my family, along with Grandma Federer would go to his grave to decorate it with flowers and of course, an American flag.One does not die until one is forgotten ...
And I'm proud to be an American where at least I know I'm free.
And I won't forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.
~ Lee Greenwood
The unofficial start of summer, a three-day weekend for government employees, and an excuse for car markdowns and furniture sales ~ this day in May is recognized in many ways in the United States. But really, above all it should be a day of remembrance for those who have died in service to our country.
