It is that time of year again. The time we set aside to remember those men and women who paid the ultimate price. Those blank checks they signed willingly to lay down their lives cashed in during battle. Not only that but in this house, it’s the start of the annual spiral down hill for my combat veteran who deals with PTSD.

It was his last deployment and for the first time had seen the preparations of the fallen’s caskets for their flight back to the United States.  His previous deployments while yes there were plenty that had died in combat, they never saw the final flight prep out of the country. So you can imagine how hard that must have been to know that here they were just getting off the plane into theater only to witness the final flights. It was also during this deployment that he saw the bombing of the base gym. Now for me, this is something that scares me because he was getting ready to open the door to the gym when it exploded. However, he is very dismissive of the event.

The more emotional reason Memorial Day is difficult for us is that it was during his last deployment he lost his pilots and jet. My husband was a crew chief; he fixed the jets. Handled one jet, in particular, it was his sole responsibility to ensure that aircraft was properly maintained and mission ready.  There is a bond between crew chiefs and pilots especially in situations such as deployments. You are more brothers than coworkers.  On the night of July 18, 2009, however, his jet did not return. He was left waiting for word about the aircraft and his friends. Word finally came, the plane and pilots were gone. Not at the hand of enemy fire, but rather because something went wrong during a last minute decision to practice training maneuvers on their way back to base. Now starts the investigation into whether it was mechanical or pilot error. It was pilot error sadly, yet for my husband the doubt still crept in. Still does during this time of the year. He knows it wasn’t anything he could have done differently with the aircraft. Everything was cleared mechanically in the investigation, yet when you are responsible for a $50 million plane and the lives of the men who fly it, it is easy to see how that doubt would haunt you.  So during our Memorial Day weekend we remember “Pitbull” and “Lag” with great sadness. Sadness for the families they left behind, and grief for the men who would willingly lay down their lives for those they loved and this country.  My husband may never fully recover from their deaths, but he knows that it wasn’t his fault, and he knows that they wouldn’t want him to blame himself.

So this Memorial Day when you are having your family bbq’s take the time to remember the families that are missing someone from theirs. Remember the many men and women that willingly signed those blank checks and the price those checks cost. The cost of their lives.. blood spilled on the battlefield.