The Price of Freedom

Memorial Day is a time to honor the men and women who valiantly and selflessly protect our interests around the globe. This morning, as I sat and reflect on the astronomical price these individuals paid to protect the simple freedoms we enjoy, a familiar hymn slowly crept into my mind. The resounding voices built to a crashing crescendo and all other thought was crowded out. These words were repeated over and over, as if my mental iPod were stuck on repeat:

"From the Halls of Montezuma
To the Shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom 
And to keep our honor clean; 
We are proud to claim the title 
of United States Marine."


It is hard to not be moved by the 'Marine Hymn.' The lyrics embody sacrifice and honor. They speak to the nobility of "the cause" and the men and women who carry out the Corps' mission. However, just as quickly yet subtly as the hymn crowded out all thought it is replaced by another volley of thought bursts. 


The hymn is replaced by emotive theme music while images of military and civilian casualties of the 'War on Terror' parade across the stage of my mind. Each image is more graphic and thought provoking than the last. The longer this ghostly slide show continues the more my mood shifts from prideful nationalism to suffocating sadness. I suddenly feel the total gravity of freedom and am unsure that my shoulders can bare its weight. 


In an attempt to deflect some of this emotional baggage I turn on the TV to escape from the thought cloud that has descended on me like fog. But much like a ship, cautiously plodding across a shrouded bay, the images on TV seem too distant and indistinguishable. While not much is apparent, it is clear that this feeling will not be eradicated by sports tickers and tampon commercials. This is a thought barrage that must be conquered through an understanding that can only come from the soul. 


Being thoroughly overwhelmed by my internal war drums I commit to sit in silence, knock on the sky and listen to the sound. As I settle into my meditative state, a word resounds with the repetition of a mantra and the building force of a battle cry. 


"Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY? WHY? WHY? Why? Why?"


It is not a negation of the great service and sacrifice of our soldiers, but a question that ensures these men and women do not sacrifice in vane. It is a question that holds those responsible for war accountable to those they send. It has the power to shed light on the darkest of moments or solidify belief in a cause or course of action. A plethora of 'why's' fall into line to create a parade of potential for enlightenment. Like:


Why is war the answer?
Why must so many die to eradicate the few?
Why do they hate us?
Why do we hem and haw over minutia while thousands die?
Why is following orders more patriotic than questioning the motives of those shouting them?


Despite my patient questioning, the answers did not come, only more questions. After several minutes it was apparent that the answers were not going to materialize. There are no easy answers or simple solutions to the tough questions that plague us all. There is no 30 second cable news clip that will assuage the guilt that is building inside me and many Americans. The responsibility for the lives lost in theaters around the world and here at home is as equally mine and yours as the men who wax eloquent from podiums in congressional halls. Those who cry for blood and more blood are no more deserving of disdain than those who stand idly by while the body count grows. 


Regardless of race, religion or political orientation, it is important that all of us ask the tough questions. It is no secret that there is an immense price that must be paid for freedom. With such a steep service fee, it is paramount that our brave men and women only be called if absolutely necessary. If we do not serve in the military it is our duty to question the validity of the mission for the service men and women who cannot. 


On this sacred day I would challenge each of us to search our souls, setting aside prejudice and fanaticism, to ask some simple questions: "Am I doing my part? Have I taken the opportunities presented to me to defend freedom? Am I deserving of my freedom?"


The answers will come if the questions are asked. They may not come today, or tomorrow, but they will come. Remain vigilant in the constant self-appraisal that leads to enlightenment. And as always, God bless America.