Just wanted to wish a happy Memorial Day to all my fellow divers.
From our President at his speech yesterday to the graduates at Annapolis:
Obama gives Naval Academy commencement speech
"America, look at these young men and women. Look at these Sailors and Marines. Here are the values we cherish. Here are the ideals that endure. In an era when too few citizens answer the call to service to community or country these Americans chose to serve. And they did so in a time of war, knowing they might be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice...
In a culture where so many chase the outward markers of success that can so often lead us astray, titles and status, materialism and money, fame and popularity these Americans have embraced the virtues that we need most right now. Self-discipline over self-interest. Work over comfort. Character over celebrity."
If you have ever thought of putting your diving to the service of a greater good, several organizations exist that enable wounded veterans and others with disabilities, to dive and in many cases enjoy a level of mobility they no longer have on land. The nature of current conflicts and advances in battlefield medicine have resulted in a much higher rate of seriously injured soldiers returning home. Opportunities exist for divers at all levels of certification to help these men and women. I am looking forward to training with one of these outfits.
Soldiers Undertaking Disabled Scuba
Diveheart Military Wounded
International Association for Handicapped Divers
A previous post on Ocean Blue Divers board contains additional information and stories:
Special Challenges, Physical Disabilities
Lastly, a powerful Memorial Day song by 'down under' troubadour Eric Bogle:
(slideshow, lyrics and background notes included...click SECOND screen down on left)
AND THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA
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"And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda"
- Eric Bogle
Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, and I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback, well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said son, It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done.
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, and they marched me away to the war.
And the band played Waltzing Matilda, as the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day, how our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay, we were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk he was waiting, he'd primed himself well. He shower'd us with bullets,
And he rained us with shell. And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played Waltzing Matilda, when we stopped to bury our slain.
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs, then we started all over again.
And those that were left, well we tried to survive, in that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive, though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head, and when I woke up in my hospital bed,
And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead. Never knew there was worse things than dyin'.
For I'll go no more waltzing Matilda, all around the green bush far and free
To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs-no more waltzing Matilda for me.
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed, and they shipped us back home to Australia.
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane, those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay, I looked at the place where me legs used to be.
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me, to grieve, to mourn, and to pity.
But the band played Waltzing Matilda, as they carried us down the gangway.
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared, then they turned all their faces away
And so now every April, I sit on me porch, and I watch the parades pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march, reviving old dreams of past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore. They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, what are they marching for? And I ask myself the same question.
But the band plays Waltzing Matilda, and the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear. Someday no one will march there at all.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong, who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
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Enjoy your holiday. DIVE and DRIVE safe! Avra
