Over at the Whiskey Bar Bar, Billmon reminds us what Memorial Day really means.

When I hear the casualties from Iraq reported on the news, or when photos of their flag-draped caskets leak through the Pentagon’s wall of secrecy, I realize I know nothing about the young men and women who have been sacrified in this war. Where they good soldiers, who served their country well despite everything they were forced to endure? Or were they monsters, who killed or tortured or stole from the people they supposedly came to liberate?

I don’t know – I’ll never know. But I remember my father’s war diary, and the things it taught me about him, and I realize I owe these men and women the benefit of the doubt. However they lived and however they fought, they died in my service, and in the service of my country. And for that I am eternally in their debt.

The only thing I would like to add is that I hope our government is worthy of the men and women who serve in their name.