[Congressional Record Volume 143, Number 69 (Thursday, May 22, 1997)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E1049]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]


                IN HONOR AND REMEMBRANCE ON MEMORIAL DAY

                                 ______
                                 

                      HON. RODNEY P. FRELINGHUYSEN

                             of new jersey

                    in the house of representatives

                         Thursday, May 22, 1997

  Mr. FRELINGHUYSEN. Mr. Speaker, on Memorial Day, we remember those 
who died for our country.
  There is something both haunting and mysterious about Memorial Day 
that makes it a special day every year. At the first commemoration of 
Memorial Day, May 30, 1868, Senator James Garfield delivered an oration 
at Arlington National Cemetery in which he said: ``I am oppressed with 
a sense of impropriety of uttering words on this occasion. If silence 
is ever golden, it must be here, beside the graves of 15 thousand men 
whose lives were more significant than a speech.''
  Our forefathers chose this day wisely knowing that during this time 
of year, we say goodbye to the spring season, as we embrace summer: the 
warm weather, the green grass and leaves of the trees, the freshness of 
the air and abundance of flowers, the crack of bats, the inevitable 
fireflies, the conclusion of the school year and the commencement of so 
many young people into new phases of their lives.
  In fact, those high school seniors turning tassels best represent the 
youth of the heroes we remember today. When I reflect on wartime, the 
thing I most remember was that everyone who served with me was so 
incredibly young. Too often, we forget that wars are fought by the 
young--men and women in the prime of their lives--18-, 19-, 20-years-
old.
  Our fallen heroes were young men and women just embarking on life's 
journey, with dreams of becoming doctors, lawyers, teachers, and owners 
of small businesses. They look risks. They played ball and danced until 
dawn. They were strong and seemingly immune to danger. But when their 
country called them, they went without question and without delay.
  And they soon discovered, like many before them and after, that there 
is nothing glorious about war. Nothing is glorious about leaving a 
husband or wife to answer the call to serve one's country. There is no 
glory in a young child crying out for their mother or father who is 
serving in a faraway land. And it is real pain and sorrow--not glory--
that parents feel when they say their final farewells to their children 
at military funerals.
  The glory of youth has been cut short by many wars. Cut short by wars 
fought in places we had never heard of and surely against people we had 
never met. And sometimes for reasons we did not fully understand. But 
we supported them then and remember them now. And we must not become 
complacent in remembering the great cause for which they fought. These 
true patriots were our country's best and brightest and they deserve 
much more than a single holiday in spring.
  There is glory in remembering their service, but it is their 
disappearance through death that forever changes our own lives and 
those that loved them. For families of those who've fallen, it may be 
an empty room at home, a faded family portrait, grandchildren never 
coming to visit, or a vacation never shared.
  And so as we remember these blessed names on our memorials, admire 
the presentation of colors, recite the Pledge of Allegiance, sing our 
national anthem, and pray together, let us listen deeply to the playing 
of Taps and remember those men and women who died in service to our 
country.
  At the end of World War I, John McCrae wrote a now-famous poem called 
In Flanders Field that manifests the challenge we have before us as we 
remember those who died for our freedom.

In Flanders Field the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; And in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Field
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Field.

  Let us all remember our brave warriors and hold their torch high. 
Thank you, God Bless You, and God Bless America.