The Reason Why

Lisa Thomas • May 22, 2019

They had just returned from one mission when their Sergeant approached them with another one.  It was risky, but they already had two weeks of leave accrued.  He promised them two more if they took it and a solid month off was too much to resist.

His buddy didn’t feel good about it.  Something just told him they didn’t need to go, but he allowed himself to be persuaded.  Sadly, he should have listened to that small, still voice and its whispered warning.  As they stood outside their vehicle during a stop, the whistle of a mortar caught their attention.  Just before it hit, his buddy pushed him away.  That selfless act saved one life . . . and cost another.  His death was not immediate and did not come easily, but help arrived too late and the friend he had persuaded to take the assignment died in his arms.

He requested and received permission to escort the body of his friend back home.  And when he arrived and saw the young man’s mother, all he could do was say “I’m sorry.”  Over . . . and over . . . and over . . .

Now, each October and November, he withdraws from the world.  Even though decades have passed, he has not forgiven himself.  His friend became a casualty of war and he feels the weight of his actions to this day.  As he shared the story with me, he stood there and cried.  After all these years, he cried.  I will spare you the horrific details he provided.  I won’t subject you to the heart-wrenching pain and guilt he conveyed, but in my heart I knew I had to share his story.  So I asked his permission—and he gave it willingly.

This, my friends, is why we have Memorial Day.  It isn’t so we get a long weekend.  It isn’t so we can fire up the grill and say hello to summer.  It is to remember and honor those men and women who died in service to our country, those who gave the ultimate sacrifice so the rest of us can enjoy our long weekends while eating burgers at the lake and basking in the sun.  Our cemeteries are filled with those who lost their lives to the violence of war.  Don’t let them be forgotten.

By Lisa Thomas October 8, 2025
Every December my daughter and I (and our special guest baker Tommy) gather for three very long days (plus usually one for gathering supplies) and we bake. And we bake and we bake and we bake.
By Lisa Thomas October 2, 2025
We’ve all heard the old saying “You can’t take it with you”, right? And we all know why old sayings get to be old sayings, right? (In case you don’t, it’s because there’s a grain of truth hidden in them . . .)
By Lisa Thomas September 24, 2025
It’s raining. A rare occurrence of late. And a welcome one. It’s done that off and on for the last few days, and you know what? The grass that once crunched under my feet is now soft and green again. And in need of mowing.
By Lisa Thomas September 17, 2025
It’s Fair Week in Hardin County, Tennessee! Just like it is or has been or will be in the near future for many counties around the south. And maybe the north. I’m just not sure how many of our southern traditions they embrace.
By Lisa Thomas September 11, 2025
The name they had chosen was filled with meaning, a combination of his father’s—Jon—and her father’s—Michael. Even before they knew what he was, they knew who he was.
By Lisa Thomas September 3, 2025
It was sometime in the 1960s or perhaps even the early 1970s. We could possibly even narrow it down a bit more than that . . . let’s say the mid-60s to early 70s. There had been a murder . . .
By Lisa Thomas August 27, 2025
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
By Lisa Thomas August 20, 2025
Carl Jeter had walked out on the deck of his house to survey the flood waters of the Guadalupe River—and to be certain the level was no longer rising.
By Lisa Thomas August 13, 2025
It was bedtime in the Guinn household and six-year-old Malcolm had decided tonight was the night to declare his independence.
By Lisa Thomas August 6, 2025
They had been married almost 25 years when Death suddenly took him. Twenty-five years of traveling around the country with his work. Twenty-five years of adventures and building their family and finally settling into a place they believed they could call their forever home.