Memorial Day

This post is dedicated to B.G. and D.G., our former neighbors for their lifetime lessons, and has been updated a bit from 2012. 

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To B.G., and his wife, D.G., who understood war, and whose initials I'm using since neither would have wanted me to post this today as they were humble people who cherished their families and all their neighbors as family. If we continue to live by their examples, the world will definitely be a better place. 

He served in the 12th Mountain Cavalry Division in Italy during WWII and she was eight years old when Mussolini took power in their small village. As she describes it, a neighborhood that was once close-knit became filled with people who no longer smiled or trusted each other and when any soldier walked by, you had to stop whatever you were doing, give a Nazi salute, and say: "Il Dulce" to honor Mussolini, "the Sweet One," a dictator and murderer.

For two years before going to Italy, B.G. said their unit received excellent training in the Colorado mountains to prepare; however, within two years or less of their own arrival to the battlefront, the incoming troops were not receiving any training since there was no time. These were boys, some as young as 16 or 17, and many had never been away from their families. These newbies were unprepared and would often make rookie mistakes that would put everyone in danger inside those dense, wintry forests.   

He said: They would do things like light a fire underneath a tree covered with snow, so when the snow would melt, the trees at the top would move and give away our position [for shelling to start]. 

Thank you to all men and women who have saved us from tyranny past and present because, as B.G. put it, "all wars are senseless."