Halls of Valor

In recent days, our nation once again observed Memorial Day with parades, celebrations, and family gatherings to honor the men and women who gave their lives in defense of our country. Although individual states have always had special days of recognition for those who had fallen in battle, it wasn’t until 1971 that Congress made Memorial Day a national holiday. Since then, in cemeteries all across the country, families, friends, and the nation have paid tribute to those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

For the most part, wars are fought by young people, men and women who are barely out of high school. I can’t even begin to imagine the deep, almost unbearable, grief that parents feel when they receive word that their son or daughter has been killed. The loss of a young person, whose entire life was ahead of them, is beyond tragic. Yet, American military cemeteries in over forty states, cemeteries in France overlooking the cliffs of Omaha Beach, and graveyards in faraway places are reminders that wars rob nations of their most valuable treasure—the lives of a nation’s future.

As a young pastor, I once visited with a couple in their mid-40s who had lost a son in Vietnam. It had been five years since the 19-year-old had been killed in a firefight, but for the father and mother it was as if they had just been informed of their son’s death. Their voices periodically cracked as they shared with me stories and photos of their deceased son. The mother, deep in thought, silently turned page after page of their son’s high school scrapbook. There were photos of him in his football uniform, one of him with his prom date, and many others.

I stand in awe of all of those who have served our country in the Armed Forces but especially those who did not return home after the wars. I wish we lived in a world where militaries weren’t necessary and young men and women could finish high school and pursue their dreams without risking their lives in combat. But we don’t live in that kind of world and, in all likelihood, never will.

The Danish pastor Dirk Rafaelsz Camphuysen wrote in 1660, “Oh, if all men would be wise, and would be good as well. The earth would be a Paradise. Now it is mostly Hell.” Those words, written over 400 years ago, tell the sad story that our past, present, and future will require the continued sacrifices of brave men and women. If only we would be wise and good, but we are not.

When I was an 8th grader, I walked by the high school trophy case almost every day to see the athletic achievements of our school’s greatest athletes. There were a number of athletes that held records but there was one name that I was fixated on—John Prichard. I’m not sure why he caught my attention. Maybe it was because we ran the same races in track or played the same position in football. For whatever reason, he was my North Star as a teenager.

John Lee Prichard

Prichard was an outstanding athlete in football, basketball, and track. He also graduated near the top of his class at Southeast High School in Oklahoma City. He had athletic scholarship offers from two dozen schools but chose to accept an appointment to the Naval Academy, where he starred on their football and track teams for four years. He played in the 1961 Orange Bowl when Navy’s football record was 9-1 and finished the season ranked as one of the top 10 football teams in the nation.

Prichard graduated from the Naval Academy in 1961 and entered the Marine Corps as a Second Lieutenant. In 1967, he commanded an infantry company of the 3rd Battalion, 4th Marines, in Vietnam, when his unit came under attack by Viet Cong troops. Even though the enemy outnumbered the marines, Captain Prichard moved up and down the battle line encouraging his men. With complete disregard for his own safety, he positioned himself in front of his men, firing his weapon and throwing hand grenades.

As he was rallying his marines, Captain Prichard was hit by enemy fire and died of his wounds on January 27, 1968. He had just turned 29 years of age a few days earlier. For his actions, he received the Bronze Star Medal with Combat “V,” and the Silver Star. He left a wife and a 5-year-old daughter behind. As long as our nation can produce men and women who sacrifice their lives for our democratic way of life, there is hope for our future.

Although I never met my high school idol, I became acquainted with his mother when I was in my mid-50s. She had moved just down the street from my mother, and they had become good friends. Whenever I visited mom, I would stop by and see Mrs. Prichard. She loved to bake and I, on a number of occasions, had the good fortune of enjoying her latest creation. She also loved to talk about her son, John.

I was eager to learn more about my high school idol and asked question after question. I had always made him bigger than life, and was surprised to learn that he was just like many other American teens growing up in the 50s and 60s. He loved to play practical jokes on friends; he was a card sharp; he enjoyed school and sports, not necessarily in that order, and he loved life. Even though the years had not diminished the pain of her loss, she spoke with pride of her son’s achievements and what he might have been had he lived.

As we look back on Memorial Day, it’s important to remember that America’s heroes are not bigger than life. They come from ordinary homes, attend school, and enjoy their friends. They dream of successful futures, getting married and having a family. When called upon, however, they serve our country with honor and pride. And, if need be, they lay down their lives for the defense of our liberties. These men and women will be forever enshrined in America’s Halls of Valor.