This is my Grandpa’s wallet. He died on September 13, 2001. Subsequently, I became keeper of this very personal item and the story of its contents. Inside this billfold, no doubt the last of several, my Grandmother found two old black and white pictures, touchstones from my Grandpa’s youth. The first photo enshrined a fellow United States Army Soldier from his unit who died at the D-Day invasion in WWII. The second picture showed a view of the beach at Normandy. My Grandpa, wounded before leaving the transport, lived, but most of the rest of the men did not. He was later wounded again in Italy. My Grandma kept the pictures. He never talked about them.
So, on this Memorial Day, I remember the men and women who died for the United States of America and for the freedom of the world. I remember fellow graduates of The Citadel who made the ultimate sacrifice in the War on Terrorism.
I remember my Grandpa, his proud display of the flag, his powerful faith, and how he dutifully carried the sacrifice and memory of his buddies with him all the days of his life.