Remembering

They marched for scores of miles through the snow for there were no half-tracks. The trail left by these beleaguered soldiers required no Indian scout to follow. The blood from their feet clearly demarked where Washington's army had been and where it went.

Farmers and their sons took up arms against their Mother Country not understanding the nuances of failed diplomacy or the particulars of Britain's increasing oppression. They did know that their farms and lives were at stake and that the British demands would only grow greater. War was upon them. Without a uniform, ill-clad and unshod, oft with farm implements as their weapon, the men of the American Revolution went to fight for freedom. And to die.

Do the young men and women enlisting today understand the hatred of Koran-believing Islam toward things of the west, toward America and western Europe? Many, probably not. Do they know the beauty of our Constitution and the soul-stirring weight of the Declaration of Independence? Do they understand the difference between a Republic and a Socialist state?

Probably not.

Many today will certainly swear an oath to the United States of America to serve in her military with hope of getting an education. Many want to see the world. Some just follow their friends. But during the Revolution, there were farmers and preachers, barbers and teachers, who took up arms because that's what others were doing. Their motives may not have been the red, white, and blue.

And still, they shed their blood.

Today we have fresh graves of folks little older than boys and girls who were willing to wear the uniform of our great nation though perhaps not full grasping why we fight. They died fighting the enemy though they might not have fully comprehended why he was the enemy.

For all those who, little understanding why they swore an oath, died in service to the United States of America, I thank God. I give thanks to their families for raising sons and daughters willing to lay down their lives for their friends.

Dear God,

For the graves that are fresh, bemarked by a new white cross,
For the graves that are freshly mowed and have been so for two centuries now,
For the graves that are unknown, a spot in some forest, perhaps beneath where a city has grown up or where now stands a baseball field,
For those who have died on the field of battle in service to the United States,
I offer my deepest gratitude.

Please bless their families for the great sacrifice they have made.
Bless the sons and daughters who will not know their dad or their mom. Help them to one day know what an extraordinary thing their parent did on that fateful day. Help them to know that their dad or their mom is a hero.
Bless the moms who did not want to see their child go into service but let them go anyway. Bless the dads who instilled in their child courage and character.

Until you return and set all things right, we will continue to war. Hasten the day of your return so that fresh graves would no longer be necessary.

In the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, who made the greatest sacrifice,
Amen.