Image via WikipediaWhat did you write about Veterans Day if you know no one who is a veteran?
If you know no one who is now in Iraq, Afghanistan, or elsewhere?
If you know no one who is now in one of the training institutions, like West Point, US Naval Academy at Annapolis, MD, or the Air Force or Coast Guard academies, or the Marines? The answer is obvious, isn't it? Do you appreciate freedom won for nations by the sacrifices and shed blood of others?
Professional writers do research for fiction, news columns, and other purposes. Special days like Veterans Day are a time to pay attention and do the research.
Thankfully, my brother Gerald returned home near the end of the war, having flown more than the maximum number of combat missions in his (second) P-38 Lightning fighter. Yes, I am proud of his service during WWII. I was old enough to pick up the quiet feelings in our home, to remember the service star in our front door window, and to remember the photos taken of my mother when he sent flowers for her birthday. American services organizations helped veterans to send special gifts or notices to family, as well as mail, and they were able to keep in touch on special days. I remember my mother crying then smiling on such a gift occasion. Although I was in preschool, the impressions remained.
It honors veterans and their families whenever a writer honors their service, no matter what they did. Military cannot function without fighters and also without those who are part of provisions and other logistics, as well as medical teams.
It will mean a lot to families of military now if you write on some "angle" of service, including how the family support helps each person in service. Write about the families. Encourage the children. Let them know how much their loved one's service means to this country.
What did you write?
REMEMBRANCE DAY/GLOBAL:
ReplyDeleteIn Flanders Fields. By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army.
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow.
LEST WE FORGET. For our tomorrows they gave their today.