Gone
Well-Known Member
Why I'm proud to be part of freedom's long line of defenders
Growing up, I spent Memorial Day sitting on the street curb in the tiny farming town of Wanamingo, Minnesota—eating my melting snow cone and watching the commemorative parade make its way down a wide Main Street. Many other American kids had similar experiences. High school marching bands, volunteer fire crews, waving city leaders, and antique tractors all brought smiles and chuckles to spirited onlookers—a slice of Americana.
But only one display brought the entire town—young and old—to their feet in reverence and respect: the color guard, their waving flags, and the uniformed veterans proudly marching behind. From grizzled World War II veterans in ill-fitting uniforms to newly minded Gulf War veterans, the small town showed their unwavering, unequivocal and enthusiastic support for their defenders. Wanamingo was proud of those who defended her—and never forgot those who gave the ultimate, full-measure for freedom.
The men and women marching down Main Street didn’t go off to Germany, North Africa, Iwo Jima, Iraq and everywhere in between to conquer land; they put their lives on the line, and swore and oath, to defend our Constitution and preserve a way of life. They didn’t fight because they hated what was in front of them, but instead because they loved what was behind them. They fought for America, and our free way of life.
Watching those men march down Main Street, I knew wanted to be one of those defenders. I wanted to be one of the millions who have taken up arms in defense of the greatest human experiment in history—the American experiment. I wanted, simply, to do my part for the cause of freedom.
Decades later, I got my chance to stand side-by-side with brothers-in-arms, battling against this generation’s enemies of freedom—radical Islamists. While deployed first to Guantanamo Bay, then Iraq, and finally Afghanistan, I was surrounded by the enormous might of the American military—and reminded that I was merely a small part of a much larger cause. Alone I could not accomplish the mission. But, together—warriors on my right and on my left—we could accomplish anything.
Medal-adorned warriors don’t spend their days remembering how brave they were in the heat of battle; no, these warriors remember the men and women they served with who made the ultimate sacrifice. Names that don’t make headlines, but have given more than anyone else.
I also realized that, like those veterans walking in the Memorial Day parade in Wanamingo, I didn’t join the military for shiny medals or the cool-guy gear (or, Secretary Kerry, because I couldn’t get an education). Instead, as I wrote in my journal while deployed in Afghanistan, I served because, while “war brings tragedy and death, it also reminds us what really matters, and how fortunate we are to live in a country where brave men stand ready to give their life for our freedoms.” I served because I knew I was fighting for what really matters—the Constitution and freedoms I knew and loved back home.
But Memorial Day is not about recognizing those who serve—it’s about remembering those who never made it home. About remembering the sacrifice made—in blood—for the freedom we enjoy. This fact is why the Wanamingo parade never ended in town, but instead at Memorial Park—there the names of each fallen veteran were read, and their sacrifice honored. Ultimately, this is what Memorial Day is all about.
Most Americans, when they think about heroism, they picture a soldier adorned with medal, or the physical scars of war. But medal-adorned warriors don’t spend their days remembering how brave they were in the heat of battle; no, these warriors remember the men and women they served with who made the ultimate sacrifice. Names that don’t make headlines, but have given more than anyone else.
One of those brave souls was Army Staff Sergeany Jorge Oliveira.
Jorge, or “George” as we called him, was one of the finest soldiers—and men—I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. I had the honor of serving with him in Cuba as his infantry platoon leader and can solemnly say he was—without exaggeration—the most reliable, hard working, professional, and good natured member of our platoon. Sadly on October 19th, 2011, while stationed in Afghanistan, I learned that Staff Sargent Oliveira was killed by an IED while on patrol near the Pakistan border.
I was in a different area of Afghanistan when he was killed, but still wish to this day that I could have been home for his funeral. His ceremony and subsequent procession was attended by thousands of grateful Americans paying their respects—many of which never knew him, but respected who he was, and what he fought for.
We can never forget that it is because of selfless and patriotic defenders like Jorge Oliveira, and countless others,, that I am able to sit comfortably at home and write this piece while watching my two young boys play in the next room. He gave me today. He gave me this blessing. And it is my job to fight here at home for the world he gave me.
I am a proud American because I had the honor of serving alongside men like Jorge Oliveira, and a long line of other freedom’s defenders—those who went the extra mile to preserve the greatest nation on earth.
On this Memorial Day weekend, I challenge all Americans—veterans, military families, and civilians alike—to remember that this American experiment involves each and every one of us, even after we hang up the uniform. We all are called to be aware, active and engaged citizens who still fight to make the neighborhoods, cities, states, and ultimately the country we live in a more free, more secure, and more prosperous place; the land of opportunity that our Founders envisioned.
Take ownership of your citizenship. Someone purchased the opportunity for you. Now is the time to ensure we dedicate ourselves to the cause of freedom, in honor of the millions of Americans who gave their lives, for us, at the altar of freedom.
Pete Hegseth is CEO of Concerned Veterans for America and the former executive director of Vets for Freedom. A Fox News contributor, he is an infantry officer in the Army National Guard and has served tours in Afghanistan and Iraq and at Guantanamo Bay. Learn more at: www.concernedveteransforamerica.org.
"History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days." -- Winston Churchill
Growing up, I spent Memorial Day sitting on the street curb in the tiny farming town of Wanamingo, Minnesota—eating my melting snow cone and watching the commemorative parade make its way down a wide Main Street. Many other American kids had similar experiences. High school marching bands, volunteer fire crews, waving city leaders, and antique tractors all brought smiles and chuckles to spirited onlookers—a slice of Americana.
But only one display brought the entire town—young and old—to their feet in reverence and respect: the color guard, their waving flags, and the uniformed veterans proudly marching behind. From grizzled World War II veterans in ill-fitting uniforms to newly minded Gulf War veterans, the small town showed their unwavering, unequivocal and enthusiastic support for their defenders. Wanamingo was proud of those who defended her—and never forgot those who gave the ultimate, full-measure for freedom.
The men and women marching down Main Street didn’t go off to Germany, North Africa, Iwo Jima, Iraq and everywhere in between to conquer land; they put their lives on the line, and swore and oath, to defend our Constitution and preserve a way of life. They didn’t fight because they hated what was in front of them, but instead because they loved what was behind them. They fought for America, and our free way of life.
Watching those men march down Main Street, I knew wanted to be one of those defenders. I wanted to be one of the millions who have taken up arms in defense of the greatest human experiment in history—the American experiment. I wanted, simply, to do my part for the cause of freedom.
Decades later, I got my chance to stand side-by-side with brothers-in-arms, battling against this generation’s enemies of freedom—radical Islamists. While deployed first to Guantanamo Bay, then Iraq, and finally Afghanistan, I was surrounded by the enormous might of the American military—and reminded that I was merely a small part of a much larger cause. Alone I could not accomplish the mission. But, together—warriors on my right and on my left—we could accomplish anything.
Medal-adorned warriors don’t spend their days remembering how brave they were in the heat of battle; no, these warriors remember the men and women they served with who made the ultimate sacrifice. Names that don’t make headlines, but have given more than anyone else.
I also realized that, like those veterans walking in the Memorial Day parade in Wanamingo, I didn’t join the military for shiny medals or the cool-guy gear (or, Secretary Kerry, because I couldn’t get an education). Instead, as I wrote in my journal while deployed in Afghanistan, I served because, while “war brings tragedy and death, it also reminds us what really matters, and how fortunate we are to live in a country where brave men stand ready to give their life for our freedoms.” I served because I knew I was fighting for what really matters—the Constitution and freedoms I knew and loved back home.
But Memorial Day is not about recognizing those who serve—it’s about remembering those who never made it home. About remembering the sacrifice made—in blood—for the freedom we enjoy. This fact is why the Wanamingo parade never ended in town, but instead at Memorial Park—there the names of each fallen veteran were read, and their sacrifice honored. Ultimately, this is what Memorial Day is all about.
Most Americans, when they think about heroism, they picture a soldier adorned with medal, or the physical scars of war. But medal-adorned warriors don’t spend their days remembering how brave they were in the heat of battle; no, these warriors remember the men and women they served with who made the ultimate sacrifice. Names that don’t make headlines, but have given more than anyone else.
One of those brave souls was Army Staff Sergeany Jorge Oliveira.
Jorge, or “George” as we called him, was one of the finest soldiers—and men—I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. I had the honor of serving with him in Cuba as his infantry platoon leader and can solemnly say he was—without exaggeration—the most reliable, hard working, professional, and good natured member of our platoon. Sadly on October 19th, 2011, while stationed in Afghanistan, I learned that Staff Sargent Oliveira was killed by an IED while on patrol near the Pakistan border.
I was in a different area of Afghanistan when he was killed, but still wish to this day that I could have been home for his funeral. His ceremony and subsequent procession was attended by thousands of grateful Americans paying their respects—many of which never knew him, but respected who he was, and what he fought for.
We can never forget that it is because of selfless and patriotic defenders like Jorge Oliveira, and countless others,, that I am able to sit comfortably at home and write this piece while watching my two young boys play in the next room. He gave me today. He gave me this blessing. And it is my job to fight here at home for the world he gave me.
I am a proud American because I had the honor of serving alongside men like Jorge Oliveira, and a long line of other freedom’s defenders—those who went the extra mile to preserve the greatest nation on earth.
On this Memorial Day weekend, I challenge all Americans—veterans, military families, and civilians alike—to remember that this American experiment involves each and every one of us, even after we hang up the uniform. We all are called to be aware, active and engaged citizens who still fight to make the neighborhoods, cities, states, and ultimately the country we live in a more free, more secure, and more prosperous place; the land of opportunity that our Founders envisioned.
Take ownership of your citizenship. Someone purchased the opportunity for you. Now is the time to ensure we dedicate ourselves to the cause of freedom, in honor of the millions of Americans who gave their lives, for us, at the altar of freedom.
Pete Hegseth is CEO of Concerned Veterans for America and the former executive director of Vets for Freedom. A Fox News contributor, he is an infantry officer in the Army National Guard and has served tours in Afghanistan and Iraq and at Guantanamo Bay. Learn more at: www.concernedveteransforamerica.org.
"History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days." -- Winston Churchill