I am interrupting my series for Memorial Day.
I want to speak for someone who cannot speak. Someone I barely remember, because he died when I was 11 years old. His name was Ronny Manca, and he was killed in Vietnam on February 25, 1972.
Ronny was close friends with 2 of my older brothers. He and his family went to the same church our family did, and attended the same very small parochial school my siblings and I attended. My brothers had been friends with him since he was 5 years old; they met in kindergarten. My father was friendly with his dad, who owned the local auto parts store. Unfortunately, what I remember of Ronny most was the news of his death. I came home from school, and brother number 3 was in the kitchen with my mother and they were both crying. He had just given our mother the news.
Ronny did not wish to go to Viet Nam. He did not wish to fight or serve in the military. He was drafted. From what I understand, he considered going to Canada. His father was a WWII vet, and perhaps his family convinced him to "do his time". Ronny lasted some 75 days or so in Vietnam. Not a lot of time.
When I hear people talk about those that "made the ultimate sacrifice" or "laid down their life for their country" I can't help but think of Ronny. Ronny wanted to ride motorcycles, make out with his girl friend down at the Hudson river swimming spot my brothers and I used to frequent, and drink beer. He was a young man in the full bloom of youth. At least these are my limited recollections... I don't think he was in any way interested in making the ultimate sacrifice and laying down his life in a rice paddy on the other side of the world after being shot by farmer/soldiers infuriated that he was walking armed in their backyard. If it weren't for the asinine policy of ego-maniac politicians, Ronny would be in his 60's now, his children in their 30's, and his grandchildren in grade school. But it was not to be. They made the ultimate sacrifice, too.
I get ill when I see the Memorial Day hoopla. The silly exclamations that I read on the Web about thanking the "men and women that gave their lives"... which really should read "were individuals killed while serving in hostilities to protect the elite's economic interests". Always it is in the abstract - BULLSH#!. Getting killed is never abstract - it is very personal. I never see someone say "I thank Ronny Manca for making the ultimate sacrifice". I get ill because it is all "survivor bias" (I think the saying "to the victors go the spoils" needs revision... perhaps it should read "to the survivors go the spoils"). The dead are not here to defend themselves, only the survivors. The dead are not here to tell you their side of the story. My bet is that if they could they would be furious at the people that took everything from them, and furious at the people that were only too willing to benefit from the actions and circumstances that took their lives. That led them to die a violent death in pain and agony far from the comfort of their homes and families. They didn't want to make the ultimate sacrifice! They wanted money for college, or to get away from poverty, or a pay check, or to see the world. I don't think being killed ever entered the equation.
As I remember it, after Ronny was killed, his family ceased celebrating many of the holidays and occasions that Americans and Christians mark throughout the year. I don't know that this went on for the rest of their lives. I hope that they had found some level of peace. I had heard that Ronny's father passed away a couple of years ago.
Ronny Manca wanted to live the life that was given to him. My bet is that the very young men serving in combat zones as I write this want to live the life that was given to them, too.