C/Ensign Nathan A. Molano doing his birthday push ups for the BIG (18) EIGHTEEN

The Mighty Wildcat Company

Scholarcats hit the ground running at their first Brain Brawl by securing 3rd Place Overall!

Looking forward to some fun and games. Bring your own pop tents and lawn chairs. Family & Friends are welcome. If your pet is friendly bring them too.

I am the fallen Soldier, Sailor, Airman, and Marine. Remember me. I am the one who held the line. Sometimes I volunteered. Sometimes I went because I was told to go. But when the nation called—I answered. In order to serve, I left behind the family, friends, and freedom that so many take for granted.

Over time, I carried different weapons: a sword, a musket, a bayonet, a rifle, a machine gun. Often, I marched into battle on foot—countless miles across entire continents. I had little water and even less food, but it did not matter. We had a job to do. Other times, I rode to battle on horseback or in wagons; sometimes on trains; later in tanks, Jeeps, or Humvees.

In early wars, my ships were made of wood and powered by the wind. Later, they were made of steel and powered by diesel fuel or the atom. I took to the air and mastered the skies in planes, helicopters, and jets. The machines of war evolved and changed with the times, but remember that it was always me—the warrior—who had to fight our nation’s enemies.

I fought at Lexington and Concord as our nation was born. I crossed the Delaware on Christmas Day in 1776. Freedom was on our side. I defended the Chattahoochee River in the War of 1812. I stood again. In the Civil War, I fought with my brothers—and against my brothers—at Gettysburg, Shiloh, and Bull Run. I learned that we must never again divide. In World War One, I marched on the Marne and held the line at Belleau Wood. “The war to end all wars,” they called it. I simply called it hell.

In World War Two, I fought everywhere: from the beaches of Normandy and the Battle of the Bulge to the sands of Iwo Jima and the hell of Guadalcanal. I stood against tyranny and kept darkness from consuming the world. In Korea, I landed at Inchon and fought my way out of the Chosin Reservoir. They called it the forgotten war—but I never forgot. In Vietnam, I fought in the Mekong Delta, at Ia Drang, Khe Sanh, and Hamburger Hill. Some say my country wavered, but I did not. Ever.

In more recent times, I fought in Grenada, Panama, Somalia, and other desperate places around the globe. And finally, I fought in Iraq and Afghanistan—in Baghdad, Fallujah, and Ramadi; in Kunar, Helmand, and Kandahar.

As technology advanced, I used night vision goggles, global positioning systems, drones, lasers, and thermal optics. But it was still me—a human being—who did the work. It was me who patrolled through the mountains, across the desert, and through the streets. It was me who suffered in the merciless heat and the bitter cold. It was me who went out, night after night, to confront our nation’s enemies and face evil head-on. It was me. Remember me. I was a warrior.

But also remember this: I was not only a warrior. I was not just a Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine. I was a son, a brother, and a father. I was a daughter, a sister, and a mother. I was a person—just like you—with hopes and dreams for the future. I wanted to have children. I wanted to watch them grow up. I wanted to see my son score a touchdown or hit the winning shot. I wanted to walk my daughter down the aisle.

I wanted to kiss my wife again. I wanted to grow old with her and be there to hold her hand when life became hard. When I told her I would be with her until the end—I meant it. When I told my children I would always be there for them—I meant it. But I gave all of that away. Every bit of it.

On that distant battlefield, on some godforsaken patch of dirt, among the fear, the fire, and the bullets—or in the skies above enemy territory filled with flak—or on the unforgiving sea where we fought both the enemy and the abyss itself—I held the line. I did not waver, and I did not hesitate. I, the Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine, stood my ground and sacrificed my life—my future, my hopes, my dreams. I sacrificed everything—for you.

This Memorial Day, remember me: the fallen warrior. And remember me not for my sake, but for yours. Remember what I sacrificed so you can truly appreciate the incredible treasures you have: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

You have the joys of life—the very joys I gave up so that you could experience them: a cool wind in the air, gentle spring grass beneath your bare feet, the warm summer sun on your face. Family. Friends. Freedom.

Never forget where it all came from. It came from sacrifice—the Supreme Sacrifice. Do not waste it. Do not waste any of your time on this earth. Live a life that honors the sacrifice of our fallen heroes.

Remember them always. And make every day Memorial Day.

-The above is an essay written by Jocko Willink, in remembrance of Memorial Day.