In dread silence reposes

My parents cruise. A lot. At this point, they've been to every continent and, if I recall, every nation. They go to small villages, climb isolated mountains, and walk on beaches far from the trappings of modern technology.

All across the world, in small places, on top of hills or in the shadows of cliffs, there are grave stones, carefully tended, and usually some old man in a faded uniform who lives in a nearby shack or hut or old building.

And on a plaque nearby, some version of the phrase, "We remember... and we thank you."

Above these stones, waving gently in the breeze, you'll see the flags. British. Austrailian. And the ol' Stars and Stripes of the United States.

I'm often conflicted on the notion of supporting those in the military. I believe that killing is never a morally valid option, even when it's the best option available, and often people seem to sign up to participate for all the wrong reasons. We get into unnecessary wars for political reasons and sometimes do more wrong than we are trying to prevent.

But on Veteran's Day today, I'll offer this statement: to those who fight for the rights and freedoms of others, who defend the line that should never be crossed, and who bear the moral cost of decisions that are not right but may be the best ones that could be made... To you, whether military or civilian, where living or dead, I salute you.