We can’t thank them enough

By Chris Sweigart

Once a week, I’ll post an archived column. Here’s a column published back in 2005. Considering Monday was Memorial Day, I figured it was fitting.
Here we go ...

I don’t know Ronald Hogbin. Never met him. Never will. Ronald lost his life May 15, 1969, in Vietnam. I’m not sure how this 29-year-old Special Forces soldier died. Maybe his unit was ambushed in a rice field. Maybe he was killed in a firefight, still pulling his trigger as he lay on the ground. Maybe he died trying to save the life of a fellow soldier.

Regardless, he died serving his country.

Kneeling in the shade beneath the sycamore trees, I visited his grave. His tombstone was modest, white with concise information. Name. Rank. Branch of service. Home state. Religion. Date of birth. Date of death. Theatre of war.

But Hogbin wasn’t alone. He has friends, comrades. Lots of them. Lined in precise military fashion, tombstone after tombstone is placed. Row after row. Stone after stone. Beside the streams. Beneath the trees. Some in the shade. Some in the sunshine. Across the rolling hills they rest. More than 300,000 of them.

All Americans.

Arlington National Cemetery, spread out over 200 acres beside the Pentagon and Potomac in northern Virginia, is a testament to the sacrifices American servicemen and women have made throughout the years. From the American Revolution, the War of 1812, Mexican War, Civil War, Spanish-American War, World War I, World War II, Korean Conflict, Vietnam, Grenada, Gulf War, Iraq to the hundreds of men and women lost in training exercises or terrorist attacks, the evolution of the American soldier is represented.

Though wars, firearms, battlefields, strategies and purposes have grossly changed throughout the years, one thing that has stood firm is the purpose of the American soldier. They fight for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. They fight for the very freedoms we enjoy every day, the very freedoms so many of us take for granted.

Cemeteries are quiet, somber places filled with respect and Arlington National is no different. Whether the grave is that of a private killed on Midway Island or a president martyred by assassins on the streets of Dallas, there is little talking. Kennedy’s grand tomb may be extravagant, but the peaceful mood surrounding his grave is no different than that of every other fallen American. Folks quietly mill around Kennedy’s flaming grave, take a few snapshots and walk away. Respect is eternal.

What sets this cemetery apart from most others are the tombstones. Other than a few special exceptions, a majority of the stones appear strikingly alike. No wild artwork. No sculptures. Nothing that makes any soldier appear greater than the other. Instead, you’ll find the soldiers lying together in uniform fashion, a sense of American solidarity. Men of the Revolution lie arm-in-arm with soldiers lost in Afghanistan.

A Graveyard of One.

You won’t find a no-vacancy sign outside Arlington National Cemetery anytime soon. There’s still room for 100,000 or so. More sacrifices will be made. More lives will be lost.

Thousands will pay tribute today to those who lost their lives fighting for freedom and American values. But we should always continue to honor those still among us who proudly served our nation, who watched their friends die in battle, who braved the dangers of combat, and who endured extended tours of duty away from their families. Thank them. Tell them how much you appreciate their personal sacrifice to fight for your freedoms.

Thanks, Ronald. Though I never met you, I can’t thank you enough for what you did for our country. We’ll play taps for you one more time.

Rest in peace.

Joe McAdory is editorial page editor. He can be reached at 749-6271 ext. 2549 or