Most of us in Wisconsin will spend this weekend with friends and family, grilling out, and probably not thinking too much about why we have Monday off. But if you like to rattle the cage of certain family members the way I do, ask them a question that’s not asked often enough:

What does war mean to you?

Here’s an answer from an infantryman:

1. defecating in my pants because i couldn’t sit, stand or crouch, without being killed, for 14 hours;

2. then when i could move, dragging a dying, fellow soldier and his intestines strung out 5 feet or so behind him 50 meters to a medic who told me he was dead;

3. not sleeping more than 3 hours at a time for 3 months;

4. not taking a shower or bath for 40 days;

5. giving a 4 or 5 year old child an opened can of fruit cocktail, and watch her walk 30 meters and step on a small mine;

6. then trying to stop the spurting blood pulsing from wherever her leg and groin used to be while i screamed for help while she turned a gray-blue and died;

-   via MAL Contends

As we continue to salute our fallen veterans and those currently serving, and let’s honor the spirit of Memorial Day and Armed Forces Day not just in May but 365 days a year, I wish to note on another matter that last week, the Wisconsin Democratic congressional delegation came through and saved the popular SeniorCare drug program from the Bush administration’s determination to dismantle it.

Senator Herb Kohl had been pushing for an amendment to save SeniorCare for months and he made sure that SeniorCare was part of the emergency spending bill to continue funding the Iraq war, so today we salute Herb Kohl (also a reliable veterans’ advocate) for his resolve and success in saving this vital program for Wisconsin seniors until 2009, when George Bush will be gone.

This is a column I wrote in 1969, for a small Illinois daily newspaper, of which I was the editor. I've resisted the urge to edit it. I think it could be greatly improved, but let it stand the way I wrote it when I was 26 and the memory was still fresh. 

 I visit Bob Davis at the Vietnam Wall every time I am in Washington, D. C. The casualty numbers are smaller, but I feel the same way today about Iraq as I did about Vietnam when I wrote this 38 years ago. -- Bill Christofferson.

* * *

Bob Davis was so easygoing it was hard to believe he was real.

Even Marine Corps boot camp didn't get him down. His only comment, no matter what ridiculous experience or torture we were undergoing, would be, "I don't believe this."

He was proud to be a Marine. Even had a "USMC" tattooed on his arm. Unlike most, he didn't apologize for it or say he got it when he was drinking.

He couldn't wait to get to Vietnam. After all, that's what he came in the Marine Corps for -- to do his bit, get out and get back to Alton (Ill.) and his girl, Sue. I was supposed to meet Sue on my next leave, when Bob and I returned Stateside. We didn't know he'd be coming back much sooner than I would -- in a rubber bag.