My friend in Santa Fe sent me the following, which was written by Capt. Steven R. Ellison, M.D. US Army and in honor of Memorial Day I share it with you.

I am a doctor specializing in the Emergency Departments of the only two military Level One-Trauma Centers, both in San Antonio, TX and they care for civilian emergencies as well as military personnel.  As a military doctor, I work long hours and the pay is less than glamorous. One tends to become jaded by the long hours, lack of sleep, family contact and the endless parade of human suffering passing before you. The arrival of another ambulance does not mean more pay,only more work. Most often, it is a victim from a motor vehicle crash. Often it is a person of dubious character who has been shot or stabbed. With our large military retiree population, it is often a nursing home patient. Even with my enlisted service and minimal combat experience, I have caught myself groaning when the ambulance brought in yet another sick, elderly person from one of the local retirement centers that cater to military retirees. I had not stopped to think of what citizens of this age group represented. I saw "Saving Private Ryan." I was touched deeply. Not so much by the carnage, but by the sacrifices of so many. I was touched most by the scene of the elderly survivor at the graveside, asking his wife if he'd been a good man. I realized that I had seen these same men and women coming through my Emergency Dept., and had not realized what magnificent sacrifices they had made. The things they did for me and everyone else that has lived on this planet since the end of that conflict are priceless.  Situation permitting, I now try to ask my patients about their experiences. They would never bring up the subject without the inquiry I have been privileged to an amazing array of experiences, recounted in the brief minutes allowed in an Emergency Dept. encounter. These experiences have revealed the incredible individuals I have had the honor of serving in a medical capacity, many on their last admission to the hospital. There was a frail, elderly woman who reassured my young enlisted medic, trying to start an IV line in her arm. She remained calm and poised, despite her illness and multiple needle-sticks into her fragile veins. As the medic made another attempt, I noticed a number tattooed across her forearm. I touched it with one finger and looked into her eyes. She simply said, "Auschwitz.."  Also, there was this long retired Colonel, who as a young officer had parachuted from his burning plane over a Pacific Island held by the Japanese. Now an octogenarian, he had a minor cut on his head from a fall at his home where he lived alone. Still spry for his age, he asked to use the phone to call a taxi, to take him home, then he realized his ambulance had brought him without his wallet. He asked if he could use the phone to call his daughter who lived 7 miles away. With great pride we told him that he could not, as he'd done enough for his country and the least we could do was get him a taxi and pay for it ourselves. My only regret was that my shift wouldn't end for several hours, and I couldn't drive him myself.  I was there the night M/Sgt. Roy Benavidez came through the Emergency Dept. for the last time. He was very sick. I walked to his bedside and took his hand. I said nothing. He was so sick, he didn't know I was there. I'd read  his Congressional Medal of Honor citation and wanted to shake his hand. He died a few days later. The gentleman who served with Merrill's Marauders, the survivor of the Bataan Death March, The former POW held in frozen North Korea.  I may still groan when yet another ambulance comes in, but now I am more aware of what an honor it is to serve these particular men and women. It has become my personal endeavor to make the nurses and young enlisted medics aware of these amazing individuals when I encounter them in our Emergency Dept. Thier response to these particular citizens has made me think that perhaps all is not lost in the next generation.