“This day does not belong to one man but to all. Let us together rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace.” – The Return of the King
Antiaircraft battery on Corregidor, 1941/1942
The Mrs., Pugsley and I went out to the local cemetery this weekend. The Mrs. had bought flowers for her grandparents, and was decorating their grave. I have never once done this. First, the graves of my relatives are very far away. Second, my family never did this – we generally tried to honor the dead by remembering them.
Pugsley and The Mrs. were walking along the cemetery road looking for a grave of a relative that The Mrs. couldn’t quite find. They had taken off cross-graveyard and left me to bring the car up to the location that The Mrs. thought the grave might be. As I drove along behind them to catch up, a gravestone caught my eye.
I stopped the car and read the inscription. The headstone was big, ornate. On it, there was one letter larger than the others, and it wasn’t a first or last initial, it was the first letter in the rank of the deceased. Reading on further, this particular gentleman had died on May 5, 1942.
The place was Corregidor. Corregidor is a small island at the inlet to Manila Bay, in the Philippines. It was established as a fort around World War I. Needless to say, when the Japanese attacked the Philippines 10 hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Corregidor was at some point going to be attacked.
The siege of Corregidor started on December 29, 1941. After the fall of Bataan, the Japanese focused on Corregidor, bombing and shelling it. Finally, the Japanese decided to land an invasion force on May 4, 1942.
The fighting was ferocious, and the troops defending Corregidor, especially the Marines, gave more than they got.
As of right now, I don’t know exactly when or how the officer in the Modern Mayberry cemetery died or what his branch of service was. What I do know is that the monument notes that he isn’t really buried there – his body still lies half a globe away. He was buried in the Philippines after being killed in action.
I can only imagine Modern Mayberry back in 1942. To be clear, in May of 1942 the United States had exactly zero real victories against the Japanese – they were still expanding in the Pacific. The Germans still had a shot at victory if Case Blue worked out for them, allowing them access to the oil of the Caucuses.
When the officer died, it wasn’t looking good for the United States, at all.
Memorial Day used to be called Decoration Day, and the earliest recorded date I can find for it is 1861 during the Civil War. Originally it applied to those soldiers that died in war. It now applies to soldiers who died during service.
The mystery officer in Modern Mayberry’s cemetery certainly died during war. And as I drove by, I did notice a small American flag next to his grave. The American Legion had already been there. But I can only imagine the situation that led to his tombstone being where it is. No family nearby.
It was 1942 and he certainly would have been one of Modern Mayberry’s first dead from World War II. Perhaps his parents till lived there. Perhaps he had been a standout on the football team, a local hero. Why weren’t they buried next to him? Perhaps they moved away later.
These are questions that I don’t have answers to. There is no tombstone for a wife, so possibly he never married, or never had children, but again, I certainly don’t know. These are mysteries that, perhaps, I will never be able to solve.
That’s okay.
Tomorrow, I’ll take flowers down to put on his empty grave, and spend a few minutes thinking about the man buried half a world away from that tombstone, who died nearly exactly 80 years ago.
In many ways I am glad that those who died in all of those wars aren’t alive to see what was done with the “freedom” they died to preserve.
Indeed. But on this day, I just put some flowers on his grave. I know a lot about him now, too.
I have no words worthy of the sacrifice made by those remembered today. Thank you, John, for yours.
It was my honor to share my words, it is so small compared to those that gave all.
Even if they are getting used by megalomaniacal lower life forms known as politicians, at least they had the guts to show up and make a stand.
Brother on Brother wars are the favorite of the bankster lawyer parasite politician maggots and it should be obsolete by now.
Yup. But I read his story. He stood his ground. He did his duty.
This made me cry. It is a fitting memorial to that soldier, and all the others who lost their lives in defense of their country.
My family has been fortunate. Although my father’s family had ancestors in every war, up to the first Gulf war (no one was in the right age/condition for the fight), we were fortunate in having almost all of them live to come home, raise families, and die in bed.
I had two children in service during the 9/11 days – one in the Navy, one in the National Guard (along with her future husband). My son was a tech in the computer area, so he thought quickly, and shot me off a quick message to let me know he was fine, and would be out of touch, possibly for months.
My daughter wasn’t deployed with her unit, due to being 8 months pregnant at the time. She continued her service, until her stepson begged her to resign – he had seen stories about moms who were injured or killed. She put her family above the service, and did not re-up.
A lot of the deaths are happenstance. Some are boneheaded decisions by the brass. All of them are a tragedy.
Linda, I researched him, and found out a lot of details. Needless to say, I’ve shared it with several folks already. I’ll do what I can (and it is more than a little, I think) to keep his memory alive.
My great, great grandfather was super of a local military cemetery. In 1882 the family of a soldier came to visit his grave and left my grandfather $100 to fund flowers for his grave every decoration day. We, this weekend, for the 140th time placed flowers on Jerome’s grave. My families way of paying honor to all of our fallen.
Thank you so much for that. This year, I really understand.
A few years ago, I went to my wife to a small cemetery in a tiny place call Frio Town. Buried there are the graves of some that were killed in Indian raids. Among the the tombstones is that of a man named “Bigfoot Wallace”. He was a soldier before Texas was a state, and before soldiering was politically correct. His grave is marked, but there are many more in this world with only a name, or none, and the veteran’s time in this world has quietly been erased from any memories.
Indeed. I’ll do what I can to keep the memory of this one alive.
https://citizenfreepress.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/memorial-day-beach-bikini.jpg
God knows who is laid to rest in that grave.
Your duty is to honor that sacrifice…..
Indeed. It is so small compared to what his duty was.
Russian TV guest says four Sarmat Satan II ICBM’s will cancel the East Coast.
China’s preparations for the Final War continues with massive movement of troops and material.
According to the comrade Chi Haotian leaked speech from 2005 Chiquitastan will be shock and awed.
Quisling traitors of all Uniparty factions are onboard and will assist their CCP fellow traveler paymasters.
Understood. I wonder what our duty will be in the future . . . ?
I mow a couple of cemeteries down here in the South Land. In one there is grave stone for a man that says POW CORREGIDOR, imagine he had a hard row to hoe. He did live to be in his eighties. Several Confederate graves, one his wife lived to the late 1950s. But the saddest is a young guy only twenty-one, stone says in Memory MIA Korea. Left and never came back.
I’ve learned a *lot* more about the soldier. I’ve been doing my best to keep his memory alive.