This is not one of my typical episodes.  It's not about humorous sayings or principles for living or anything like that.  It's about dead men and women lying in a box in the ground.  It's about those that didn't make it home because they were never found.  It's about the kids that had the balls to storm a beach knowing they were about to face hell on earth.  And they did it any way.  Some did it because they were told too.  Some did it because of a sense of duty and honor.  Others did it for their brothers, who in a few short minutes would die right beside them on that sandy beach, far from home.  Regardless of why they did it, the point is they did it.  They charged onto that beach and all hellfire was loosed on them. They did it, and they died.  And they deserve our respect, our gratitude, and they deserve our thanks.

My words today took shape early this morning because my spirit was restless, waking me up with the dead on my mind.  I tried mightily to shake this feeling of dread.  It was a feeling like I had lost my best friend to a terrible tragedy.