This Thanksgiving, Scott and I decided to visit the Lorraine American Military Cemetery in Saint-Avold, France. We had passed it before, on the way to Metz and Strasbourg, and put it on the list of places we needed to visit before we left Germany. A couple weeks prior to the holiday, when discussing what we should do with the day off, Scott suggested we visit a cemetery to give thanks. With Veteran’s Day just behind us, along with my and Scott’s recent visit to Bastogne, Belgium, paying our respects on Thanksgiving Day seemed perfectly timed.
With Metz a rather short day trip away, we decided to spend the first part of the day there and then stop at the cemetery in Saint-Avold on our way back. That evening, after we returned home, I asked Scott what his favorite part of the day was. For both of us, it was the cemetery.
Before going, we [obviously] knew it was a military cemetery, and that we would see the graves of men who lost their lives, but actually being there was even more sad than I imagined. When you see the rows upon rows upon rows of crosses and Jewish stars, the gravity of it all really begins to weigh down on you. 10,489 men are buried there. 10,489 men who never came home. 10,489 men who lost their lives in the defense of freedom. Far more lives were lost throughout the war, but almost 11,000 of those buried right here?
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” is what kept coming to mind as I fought to hold back tears. Yet, “thank you” seemed to fall so short.
The cemetery had a solemn atmosphere. It was very quiet. The air was cold. And aside from a handful of others, we had the entire place to ourselves. As we walked, dusk drew nearer. Closing time did too and Taps was played before an attendant lowered the American flag.
As sad as it was, I could not help feeling proud as I heard that familiar bugle call. As the flag was lowered, Scott whispered softly, “America.” I wanted to cheer! Much like how it did when we saw the memorial in Bastogne and the way Belgians described their American friends, my heart swelled with pride. I am so proud to be an American. I am proud that these men answered the call. I am proud they chose to fight against a rapidly growing evil. And while I am generations removed from their sacrifice, I am proud to be inextricably linked to them as an American. Each and every one of the men buried here gave the ultimate sacrifice in defense of freedom. And I am so thankful to be a recipient of it.
I mentioned above that “thank you” seemed to fall short. So, what else can we say or more importantly, what else can we do? I think taking time to be here, to remember, to feel the gravity of the sacrifices made is important. And although it doesn’t seem like much, I still think saying “thank you” is essential. But on top of that, the follow through of that “thank you”, is how I honor the freedom I have.
It is up to me what I do with this freedom – to not squander it – and to lead a life fully lived, one of purpose and meaning and serving others.
These men did not die in vain. And it is up to me and every single one of my fellow Americans to keep it that way, to not abuse this freedom of ours. Because it came at an extremely high cost – thousands upon thousands of human lives. Although I learned about the war and subsequent devastation in school, it feels heavier graveside. Visiting the cemetery had an impact on me I won’t soon forget.
More often than not, I feel I am someone who is generally (and genuinely) grateful for what I have and the opportunities I have been given. I am nowhere near perfect – I certainly have my moments where I need reminding – but I feel that I regularly live with a spirit of thanksgiving. And for as long as I can remember, I have truly taken the Thanksgiving holiday to heart. Each year I use the day to reflect on all I have to be thankful for, but this Thanksgiving added an entire new layer of perspective on the matter.
While not in the traditional Thanksgiving sense, the day was still filled with delicious eats (we feasted on quiche Lorraine, eclairs, and had a sushi dinner instead of turkey), time spent with loved ones and a physical activity (I traded in the annual Charleston Turkey Day Run and made do with walking the streets of Metz). But most importantly, the day was filled with gratitude and remembrance.
We have so much to be thankful for! The first being, that we still have breath in our lungs.
Reisen, Abenteuer, und Love. 