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Archived from Yahoo Boomers International Group message board

From: "Ben Lawrence Basile"
Date: Sun May 25, 2003 8:01 pm
Subject: A friend of Ben's who served talks about *Memorial Day*...

Hello Everyone;

For so many of us, Memorial Day mostly means having family over, or getting an extra day off! We often have cookouts or do something fun and relaxing.

There's nothing wrong with any of that, of course.

At the same time, it is a day set aside to *Remember* those who served this country in the military and especially those who laid down their lives for the United States and for our liberty.

I drive a cab for a living and I am a co-mod of a yahoo group about Taxi-driving and the Cab Business. One of the members of that group is Mike Cone. Mike is a long-time employee of the company that I drive for. He drove the streets for many years and then became a safety investigator for Yellow Cab/City Cab of Orlando.

He is also a Marine Corps veteran of the Viet Nam war and a good friend. And I have the extremely good fortune of being married to his daughter Stacey.

He posted this originally on our mssg board over at "YellowCabNightShift" but it seemed so important to me that I decided to run it here too.

When Memorial Day comes around each year, it is often easier to think of the burgers and hot dogs or the long holiday weekend ONLY and forget the actual purpose of the day; here's something that might help you see things in perspective. Please give it a read.

If, after you've read this, you'd like to "say" anything to Mike, here's how you can. He doesn't know I'm doing this, but here goes! Mike's e-mail addy is:


We truly do owe Mike and all vets a debt we can never really repay. Especially those who didn't make it back. What we CAN do is say "thank you". And I hope that you will. I'll bet each one of you knows someone a lot like Mike...

Ben Basile, remembering those who served on this Memorial Day...

Now that message from Mike Cone, a Marine Corp veteran of the Viet Nam war:

--- In, "mikecone2002" wrote:

At the shop tonight I was talking with my daughter Stacey and ended up listening to a driver's complaint about how Memorial day was not good for business. I have recently returned from a Viet Nam Vets reunion and thoughts of "my time in hell" are in the front of my mind quite a lot these days.

I know memorial day is a rough day for you guys but it's a rough day for me as well. It's a day of remembering.

Remembering can be curse when you've spent years trying to forget. It's even worse when you get mad at yourself for not being able to remember. It's strange that you forget so many things you want to remember and remember so much that you really want to forget.

I spent 11 months, 28 days in sunny Southeast Asia. I came back physically whole. "No members missing" tag on this Marine. By the Grace of God, good training, and just plain pure dumb luck, I suffered no more than a slight hearing loss, a concussion or two, and 35 years of mixed-blessing memories.

I was a lousy husband to my first two wives but I've been a good husband to my present wife. I was a lousy father to my three daughters and my son. I was a mediocre son to my mother, and a reasonably successful employee to five or six employers over the years. With these results, I consider myself as doing better than the average bear when compared to many of my fellow veterans. The Grace of God and luck still abound.

Memorial Day is not a day for self-evaluation or selfish thoughts. So I turn my remembrances to other people, places, and things. I remember heat. Heat that kept you from getting a full breath for weeks. Heat that sapped your strength so that you were beyond exhaustion after a minor exertion. Heat that made you tired and kept you from sleeping. Heat that made you sweat buckets. Heat that made you freezing cold at 70 degrees.

I remember lush green mountains that always seemed to go up not down. I remember red earth that was sticky enough to glue a deuce and a half in place, slippery enough to make it impossible to stand on, and dusty enough to choke you into a coughing fit like a bad cigar.

I remember rice paddies. They could get you killed or save your life. Dikes stop bullets but can leave you exposed if you're dumb enough to walk on them. The water smelled of feces but was better than not drinking at all.

I remember rain. Rain that broke the intolerable heat then never stopped. Rain that was as gentle as silk or as stinging as a nest of bees. Rain that let you get a good clean shower and rotted your feet 'til they bled.

I remember a moon that shone so bright you could read a map by it. I remember moonlight dancing on foliage that made you see nothing one minute and imagine a host of slinking VC the next.

I'll never forget the colors of an explosion close at hand. The white center bleeding out to a yellow ring surrounded by black rolling smoke was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

I remember the orange and green tracers streaking through the night, while I prayed that none came to roost on me.

But above all this, I remember people. Faces, personalities, and human events still crowd my days and nights with pleasure and pain. I can remember entire conversations and events in explicit detail. I cannot remember the names of more than a few, and I don't know why. Shouldn't this be the other way around?

I remember the parting face of the Huey jock, who took an RPG in the nose 100 yards after he lifted off from leaving me in a clearing. I remember every detail of the guy who hung himself 2 weeks before he was going back to the "world". I remember the guitar songs taught to me by the kid from Boston, who drove a jeep over a 105 shell buried on a dirt road and tripped the trap. I remember the quiet calm of the guy who told me he was sorry and assured me that I would be O.K. after he stepped on a mortar-round booby trap. All this while I held what was left of him in my arms, and we filled him with enough morphine to kill a horse because he was cut in half below the waist; and we knew he wouldn't survive the slick ride back to DaNang.

Of the hundreds I knew, I kick myself for remembering so few. Especially on this Memorial Day when I should be able to remember each and every one. They are the ones who paid for this Memorial Day.

This is their day. I will not spoil it by forgetting even one of their number.

From this day forth I will carry their memory and spirit with me as a living memorial to their sacrifice and dedication to God, country, duty, and honor. They shall not pass gently into the night as long as I have breath in my body.

REMEMBER, REMEMBER...For God's sake Remember!

I know I'm not alone in these feeling and to you, my Brothers in Arms, Welcome Home!

================================================= Mike;

Many thanks to you for posting this. Every American owes you guys a debt we can never repay...

My heart-felt thanks to you and everyone who served in VN and every war. Especially those who didn't make it home.

We WILL remember; and not on Memorial Day only...

Ben Basile
A group on yahoo about Cab drivin' and the Taxi business:

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