Basura: This weekend indeed a time to honor, remember

“The long habit of living indisposeth us to dying.”— Sir Thomas Browne, Urn Burial

As Memorial Day approaches, I remember veterans I’ve known. My dad was a World War II vet. My Uncle Dick is a Korean War vet.

My Uncle Bill dropped out of high school in Detroit and joined the Navy in WWII. He was a hardhat diver, and was able to weld underwater, a valuable skill if a ship was hit by a torpedo or bomb, or struck a mine. Uncle Bill’s skill was not common, and he got called back for Korea. There was not much naval warfare in Korea, but the Navy wanted to be prepared.

My Uncle Frank was in the Army in WWII. There were other vets in my family, including a cousin who rose to the rank of general in the Air Force.

Mrs. Basura’s beloved Uncle Carl fought in Europe during the Second World War. He was part of a force that liberated a concentration camp. He said the people of France were very happy with the American GIs for liberating their country from Nazi occupation.

For the record, Carl was a bachelor during his military service. Born in Saginaw, he had a recognizably German surname. His fellow soldiers called him “The Kraut.” I had the honor and privilege of escorting Carl and other vets to the World War Two Memorial in Washington, DC, a few years ago.

My brother-in-law spent four years in the Navy. He rose in rank by becoming a Radioman.

His tale of being at sea in the destroyer USS Orleck during a typhoon was frightening. Every huge wave crashing into the ship sounded like a train wreck, and they kept coming. Capsize was a danger, and, chances of survival would have been very remote.

Andy’s service included time at the beginning of the Vietnam Era. I have his Navy cap on the top level of the bookcase at my desk. It’s embroidered with the name of his ship, and a depiction thereof, and his name and MOS.

Memorial Day is a time to remember the war dead, and I remember my friend Marlin Price. He was killed in action in Vietnam. He was a good man. He was not far from me at all when he was hit, and I was told that he was making an effort to rescue another Marine lying wounded on the battlefield.

I suppose we’ll grill burgers and have potato salad. I know I have a good American lager, cold, union made Pabst Blue Ribbon, awaiting my attentions. I might even put on my USMC cap, which is adorned with a peace symbol pin.