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Memorial Day

Civil War Births Memorial Day

Mon, 2015-05-25 06:05 -- Jocelyn Green
  Memorial Day, as we know it, began as Decoration Day shortly after the end of the Civil War. May 30, 1868, marked the first official national observance, by proclamation of Gen. John A. Logan. But the South refused to acknowledge the observance, and it's little wonder. If you read the text of General Logan's proclamation, you'll see that the day was really meant to honor the Union dead, not the Confederates. Add to this the fact that the Federal government offered little cooperation with the attempts to bring Confederate remains home to rest in the South. Last but not least, before Arlington was a cemetery, it was Gen. Robert E. Lee's home. The Lees, and most likely thousands of other Southerners, felt that turning their home into a burial grounds for the enemy (Union soldiers) was a desecration. As a result, the South honored their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every state on the last Monday in May, though several southern states have an additional separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead. Click the image to see the sheet music.   In fact, Southern women were decorating the graves of their fallen heroes before the national holiday was ever designated. In 1867, a hymn by Nella L.Sweet, Kneel Where Our Loves Are Sleeping, was published with a telling dedication: "To The Ladies of the South who are Decorating the Graves of the Confederate Dead." One stanza reads: Kneel where our loves are sleeping, Dear ones loved in days gone by, here we bow in holy reverence, Our bosoms heave the heart-felt sigh. They fell like brave men, true as steel, And pour'd their blood like rain- We feel we owe them all we have, And can but kneel and weep again. Author Cilla McCain says it well in her Huffington Post article: Although there is much dispute as to the origins of Memorial Day, it is not difficult to imagine that women are the ones who inspired the tradition. After all, for the most part, it was women who were left to bury the dead. Grief stricken and with tears flowing, they had to find a way to connect with the soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice for the freedoms we all enjoy. Maybe honoring them was a way to deal with not only the grief, but also the guilt we feel for surviving. Read her complete article here. Even those of us who won't be decorating a loved one's grave this Memorial Day can appreciate the sacrifices that were made for our freedoms. 

Carrying On: The Sullivan Brothers' Survivors

Thu, 2015-05-21 05:45 -- Jocelyn Green
  In honor of Memorial Day, I'd like to share the following excerpt from Stories of Faith and Courage from Home Front.  A knock at the door early one January morning in 1943, brought Thomas Sullivan face-to-face with three men in naval dress uniforms. “Which one?” Thomas asked. “I’m sorry,” replied one of them. “All five.” George, Francis, Joseph, Madison, and Albert Sullivan had enlisted in the Navy upon hearing that a friend had been killed at Pearl Harbor. The one condition of their service was that they be allowed to serve on the same ship. Their request was granted, and all five served on the U.S.S. Juneau. And now the Navy declared all five missing in action in the South Pacific after a torpedo sunk their ship on November 13, 1942. The following week, a letter arrived that answered all their questions of their sons’ fates. The letter, reprinted in the Waterloo Courier shortly after it was received, read: All hope is gone for your boys being found alive. George got off the ship, as his battle station was on a depth charger, but he died on a life raft I was on. The other four boys went down with the ship, and were killed immediately, so they did not suffer . . . I know you will carry on in the fine Navy spirit. The surviving Sullivans did carry on. Their sister Genevieve joined the Navy Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES) on June 14, 1943, and by 1944, Thomas and his wife, Alleta, had spoken to more than a million workers in war-production plants in sixty-five cities, urging them to maximize production so the war might end sooner. “People ask me and Mother and Father too, ‘How do you manage to keep your chins up and keep going?’ We just do,” Genevieve told a reporter for the Waterloo Courier. “There’s a job to be done, a big one that means the lives of many. So we must keep working hard.” The Sullivans were carrying on for the cause for which that their sons had given their lives. In the same way, we as believers must carry on for the cause for which Christ gave His life, as well. Christ died so that we might be truly free, not just from other men, but from sin itself. Our job is to share the Good News, and it “means the lives of many.” Prayer: Lord, help me to carry on your kingdom work. “We must do the work of him who sent me. ” ~John 9:4 May you have a meaningful Memorial Day!

Memorial Day Tribute: Remembering the Sullivan Survivors

Fri, 2014-05-23 10:00 -- Jocelyn Green
As we approach Memorial Day, it seems only fitting to remember the family most famous for its personal loss during a war. This family happens to be from my hometown. As a native of Waterloo, Iowa, I grew up hearing the name of the "Five Sullivan Brothers" just because we had a convention center named in their honor. It wasn't until years later I realized why. Perhaps you already know the story--these five brothers enlisted in the Navy after the attack on Pearl Harbor with just one condition. They wanted to be able to serve together. They were granted their request, and served together until they all died together, as well, when the U.S.S. Juneau was torpedoed by the Japanese and sunk in November 1942. Suddenly the Sullivan family of Waterloo, Iowa, was given the unwelcome distinction of bearing the largest single loss for a military family in history, a distinction they retain to this day. In 2008, Waterloo opened the Sullivan Brothers Iowa Veterans Museum in their honor, just one portion of which lets visitors walk through a replica of the Sullivan home and flip through a scrapbook of their family photos and newspaper articles. It's an intimate family atmosphere with a crackling radio program in the background. So even though my co-author, Karen Whiting, was writing the World War 2 stories for our book, (Stories of Faith and Courage from the Home Front), she let me write this one contribution from my own hometown: Carrying On. (Read the excerpt here.) Sullivan Brothers Iowa Veterans Museum, Waterloo, IA If you're interested in the full story of the Sullivans, check out the book We Band of Brothers: The Sullivans and World War 2, or the movie, The Fighting Sullivans, made in 1944. *To read a Memorial Day tribute from Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq & Afghanistan, click here.

The Great Equalizer

Sun, 2013-05-26 08:46 -- Jocelyn Green
by Donna Tallman Gently and quietly he clicks the door shut on his sedan so that even the breeze is unruffled. He deliberately walks toward the oldest row of graves in Section 60. His perfect posture looks military-trained, while the lines on his face mark him Vietnam era. Always focused forward, the eyes of the man in his sixties hone in on one of the markers at the far end. Finally, he reaches the right one and slowly kneels in the grass. The grieving father bows his head. Some have said that hospital waiting rooms are the great equalizers of life – that injury and sickness recognize no social class, no ethnic divide, and no age category. All are equally at risk. Cemeteries are even more equalizing than waiting rooms. None recovers here. The father does not tarry long at his son’s grave. He’s not really here to visit him. Instead, he has come to care for the living. While no one else dares interrupt a widow’s vigil out of respect for her grief, the father does. This tender, caring man can approach where others never should. He is a fellow sufferer, a tempest traveler…one who knows first hand the cost of war. The father begins his rounds of visitation to the daughters he has adopted in the graveyard. He knows each one by name and checks on their welfare. Over the months they have all visited Arlington to grieve alone together; this unlikely group has grown from being intimate strangers among the tombstones, to caretakers of one another’s sorrow. While he knows that he cannot bring his son home from Afghanistan, the father seeks to heal the history death attempts to write in each of their hearts. Rising above his own agony, he reaches out to care for those around him, and in the process, finds refuge for his own soul. Yes, Arlington is a graveyard, a place of the dead. It is also a showcase for valor, a field of honor for America’s most courageous soldiers. And for those knit together by the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, Arlington is a place of healing from war’s ultimate sacrifice. “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3). Prayer: When life’s raging tempest threatens to break my heart and my spirit, would you, oh Lord, step in with Your authority and restore calm to the churning waves around me? Deliver me and bind up any wounds incurred by my sojourn here on earth. *This devotion is an excerpt from Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Free Because of Sacrifice

Sat, 2013-05-25 08:43 -- Jocelyn Green
by Donna Tallman Step by determined step I walk on through Arlington Cemetery.  A car passes on my left, then another and another. The procession of mourners drives by in slow motion making its way to the grave site. A color guard stands at attention near a freshly dug grave. A bugler waits for his call, and a squad of seven riflemen stands across the field for their moment of tribute. Cicadas hum just below the surface of unspeakable grief. I hurry under a tree, not suitably dressed for a funeral nor invited by the family; but here by circumstance in my nation’s field of honor. He is my soldier. Beautiful in its simplicity, the military funeral proceeds with expected precision.  A minister addresses the young crowd of mourners. The flag covering the soldier’s coffin is folded and given to today’s grieving widow whose two restless toddlers squirm next to her. She bows her head in anguished respect - uncertain the nation is truly grateful for her sacrifice, but so very proud of the hero her husband is. The riflemen give a twenty-one gun salute matched by twenty-one unexpected echoes from another burial in progress on the cemetery grounds. The shots of honor reverberate back and forth across the valley as if to emphasize the sobering cost of freedom. The cicadas pick up their song again whirring louder and louder until I feel them pounding in my ears. Looking up through the tree, I see that a helicopter has joined their cacophony giving tribute to this fallen hero. The bugler closes with the mournful notes of “Taps,” hanging onto the last note until it slowly dissolves into history.   The crowd disperses while I wait under the tree. Stillness returns. Slowly, I begin to walk the uniform rows of gravestones. The magnitude of what we have asked of our soldiers and the grief these families are going through comes quickly into focus. I realize that for the first time ever, I am standing in the graveyard of a war in progress. “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Prayer: Father, remind me that liberty never travels without its companion, sacrifice, and that sacrifice never travels without love. When I am tempted to forget the sacrifices of others on my behalf, remind me that even You paid the ultimate price for my freedom – the life of your only Son because You loved me. *This devotion is an excerpt from Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan (AMG Publishers 2009).

The 150th Anniversary of TAPS

Thu, 2012-05-24 10:31 -- Jocelyn Green
A note from Jocelyn: Last summer, I visited Virginia's Peninsula to research my Civil War novel, Wedded to War. While there, I stayed with Linda Montgomery, the editor of ExcellentorPraiseworthy.org, the devotional Web site of Campus Crusade's Military Ministry. In honor of Memorial Day, I want to share with you an article by Linda about the origin and meaning of "Taps." It first appeared at ExcellentorPraiseworthy.org.  July 2012 marks the 150th anniversary of Taps, as it was written after the Seven Days Battle (which appears in Wedded to War). Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast. — Psalm 139:7-10 For me, the story of “Taps” is a local story because I live close to where it was composed. I could easily drive to Berkeley Plantation in Virginia, where there is a monument marking the “birthplace” of Taps. Tour guides will tell you that the haunting 24-note bugle call is actually a revision of a French call to signal to the troops the end of the day and “lights out.” The story goes like this: “In of July of 1862, in the aftermath of the bloody Seven Days battles (Peninsular campaign), hard on the loss of 600 men and wounded himself, Union General Daniel Adams Butterfield called the brigade bugler to his tent. . . .Oliver Wilcox Norton, the bugler, tells the story, ‘. . . showing me some notes on a staff written in pencil on the back of an envelope (some accounts say that Butterfield hummed it to Norton), (he) asked me to sound them on my bugle. I did this several times, playing the music as written. He changed it somewhat, lengthening some notes and shortening others, but retaining the melody as he first gave it to me. After getting it to his satisfaction, he directed me to sound that call for Taps thereafter in place of the regulation call. The music was beautiful on that still summer night and was heard far beyond the limits of our Brigade. The next day I was visited by several buglers from neighboring Brigades, asking for copies of the music which I gladly furnished. The call was gradually taken up through the Army of the Potomac.’” From “History of Taps.” Savage's Station, Virginia, June 30, 1862, Union field hospital during and after the Seven Days Battle. Photo courtesy: Library of Congress   Not long after Taps was composed, it was used for the first time at a military funeral. Union Captain John Tidball, commander of an artillery battery, had it played for the burial of a cannoneer killed in action (during the Peninsular Campaign) because the traditional three-rifle volleys fired over the grave might have alerted the enemy nearby. This event is commemorated in a stained glass window at The Chapel of the Centurion, also nearby at Ft. Monroe. Ten months after it was written, Taps was played at the funeral of Confederate General “Stonewall” Jackson. By 1874 Taps was officially recognized by the U.S. Army and was required to be played at military funerals by 1891. Taps is played throughout our nation on Memorial Day as it is traditionally sounded at funerals, wreath-laying, and memorial services. In order to honor those who died in service to our country, giving the ultimate sacrifice—Taps is played in remembrance of all of those who have insured our precious freedom. While we are hearing the strains perhaps you can also remember the words which are associated with the bugle call. While these lyrics are not “official,” the first verse is commonly sung with these words: “Day is done, gone the sun, From the hills, from the lake, From the sky. All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.” God is nigh. The definition of “nigh” is “near in space, time, or relation.” The American College Dictionary, 1955. God is near: You are near, O LORD, and all Your commandments are truth. — Psalm 119:151 The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. — Psalm 34:18 But as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord GOD my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works. — Psalm 73:28 The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth. — Psalm 145:18 Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. — Philippians 4:5 The last verse of Taps, traditionally, is similar to the first verse: “Thanks and praise, For our days, ‘Neath the sun, ‘Neath the stars, ‘Neath the sky, As we go, This we know, God is nigh.” Is there any doubt in your mind and heart that God is near, during deployment? Even during the lowly conditions of war in 1862, God was there. Jari A. Villanueva is a bugler and bugle historian, considered the country’s foremost authority on Taps. He wrote: “.. . it is hard to believe that Butterfield could have composed anything that July in the aftermath of the Seven Days battles which saw the Union Army of the Potomac mangled by Lee’s Army of Northern Virgina. Over twenty six thousand casualties were suffered on both sides. . . . In the midst of the heat, humidity, mud, mosquitoes, dysentery, typhoid and general wretchedness of camp life in that early July, it is hard to imagine being able to write anything.” From “24 Notes that Tap Deep Emotions”. But write it (or revise it) he did, and Butterfield’s desire to honor his soldiers is forever the way that we seek to honor our brave soldiers. The Scripture from Psalm 139 is a reminder of what we declare in the singing of Taps. With a lump in our throats and perhaps tears in our eyes, we remember this Memorial Day, with grateful hearts, those courageous patriots who have gone before us in battle. . . . and we remember that our God is faithful . . . . and near. Questions to Share: 1. What thoughts come to your mind when you hear Taps? 2. On this Memorial Day, is there someone who served our country whom you could tell your spouse about as a way of honoring them? Note:  Additional information on Taps is available at www.tapsbugler.com
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