Guest post by Capt Chris Kuehne, USMC (Ret)
As a Marine veteran who has walked the battlefields of Iraq and buried Marines and close friends, their voices still echoing in my quiet moments, Memorial Day is more than a date—it’s a weight I carry every day.
The loss of those warriors, brothers bound by duty and loyalty, is a struggle I’ve faced and continue to grapple with, as do countless service members across the country who bear the scars of grief.
Each year, on the last Monday of May, we’re called to honor the over 1.1 million American service members who gave their lives for our freedoms, from the Revolution to today’s conflicts.
Yet, in 2025, this sacred day is too often drowned out by barbecues, beach trips, and retail sales, reduced to an “extra day off.” Polls show only 46–48% of Americans understand that Memorial Day commemorates those who died in military service.
Inspired by retired Navy SEAL Jocko Willink, I believe we honor the fallen not just by remembering, but by living with purpose and discipline, rejecting the commercial distractions that dilute their sacrifice.
From my perspective, shaped by the enduring pain of loss, this is how we keep their legacy alive and ensure Memorial Day’s meaning endures.
Memorial Day began as “Decoration Day” after the Civil War, a conflict that claimed over 600,000 lives and fractured the nation.
In 1868, it was established to adorn the graves of fallen soldiers with flowers, a gesture of gratitude and reconciliation.
By 1971, it became a federal holiday to honor all U.S. service members who died in wars, from Lexington to Kandahar.
This history demands we see Memorial Day as a tribute to sacrifice, not a summer kickoff.
Yet, a 2024 USAA survey and Talker Research poll show less than half of Americans grasp this purpose, often confusing it with Veterans Day or a generic patriotic celebration.
Jocko Willink, whose words carry the grit of a warrior, cuts through the noise. In a May 2025 X post, he wrote: “Memorial Day isn’t about sales or vacations. It’s about the brave who gave all. Honor them by living with discipline and purpose” (@JockoWillink).
In a YouTube video, he expanded: “Remember me the fallen warrior… not for my sake but for yours. Remember what I sacrificed so you can truly appreciate the incredible treasures” of freedom. His call strikes deep.
The Marines and close friends I lost in Iraq, warriors with quick grins and unwavering loyalty, didn’t die so we could chase “Memorial Day Blowout” deals. They believed in something bigger—duty, brotherhood, freedom.
I can still see them, sharing stories under a desert sky, promising to have each other’s backs. Their deaths left a void that lingers, a grief I navigate daily, as do so many veterans who carry the names of their fallen in their hearts.
Yet, their loss taught me that honoring them means living deliberately, making their sacrifice count.
Willink’s discipline—rising early, owning your actions—mirrors the code I learned in the Corps and carried into my civilian work. It’s about rejecting distractions and living worthy of those we’ve lost.
The commercial tide is strong. Retailers flood inboxes with sales, and AAA reported record-breaking travel in 2024, turning a day of mourning into a leisure milestone.
A 2024 National Centre for Social Research report notes that our digital age prioritizes quick wins, with many focused-on issues like climate change or social justice over history.
I would argue that today’s focus on social media and instant gratification can sometimes overshadow Memorial Day’s meaning. With only 1% of Americans serving, as noted by @DameScorpio, few feel the personal cost of war.
A 2024 Standing for Freedom Center article reveals only 36% of Americans can pass a basic U.S. citizenship test, struggling to explain the Constitution’s principles or why we fought the British.
This gap distances us from the ideals—liberty, self-governance, unity—that my Marines and friends died for.
Memorial Day’s power lies in its call to live worthy of the fallen. The deaths of my Marines and friends drove me to lead with purpose, as I did in the Corps and beyond. The fallen gave “everything” so we could have “everything.”
For veterans like me, who struggle with the enduring pain of loss, this day is a reminder to channel grief into action—serving our communities, raising families with values, or pausing to reflect.
Schools must teach the Constitution and the sacrifices behind it. A 2024 youth group lesson plan framed Memorial Day as freedom’s cost, a model for engaging all ages.
Communities can host memorial services, invite veterans to share stories, or use the National Cemetery Administration’s archives to make history real. My passion for veterans’ honor inspires this—stories of service can bridge gaps across generations.
We all have a role. Visit a veterans’ cemetery, volunteer with a Veteran Organization or support Gold Star families. I urge each of you reading this to take a moment—read about a fallen hero, attend a ceremony, or share their story.
Parents and educators can talk to youth about the 1.1 million who died, making their sacrifices vivid.
For me, and for service members nationwide who wrestle with the same grief, it’s personal: every Memorial Day, I see the faces of my Marines and friends, their courage etched in my heart.
I hear their laughter from desert nights, their vows to never leave a Marine behind, and I vow to keep their memory alive by living with discipline, advocating for veterans, and teaching others why this day matters.
Memorial Day is a debt to those who gave everything. It’s a call to reject the “extra day off” mindset and recommit to the principles they died for.
By fostering education, engagement, and gratitude, we can ensure Memorial Day remains a vibrant tribute, not a forgotten footnote. Let’s honor the fallen by living with purpose, today and always.
