Editor’s note: A version of this article was published in a blog post in 2022, and the speech referenced in the article was delivered in 2009 or 2010. As we start the Memorial Day weekend and in consideration of this time in our country’s history, I think it is relevant to revisit the theme of the piece.
My Dad’s father, Big Charlie, we called him, though he was barely 5’9” and weighed no more than 160 pounds, is a legend in our family. The “Big” comes from the fact that he was the senior Charlie to my uncle Charles’ junior status.
Big Charlie only finished the eighth grade, but volunteered for the Army in World War II, founded a successful service station in our hometown, served as County Trustee for six years and County Commissioner for seventeen, and participated in a host of local civic organizations.
Most memorable were his jokes, riddles, anecdotes, and stories – rarely ever were they one hundred percent true. He loved to challenge his grandchildren to think, to question, but most of all to laugh. His most “famous” story takes place during World War II in Europe.
Because of his lack of education, he was assigned to the laundry detail. His job was to handwash the uniforms, bedding, and other items of the soldiers. This much is true.
As the story goes, one night his detail was washing the laundry near German battle lines. Without warning, his unit was surrounded by a battalion of German soldiers with rifles equipped with razor-sharp bayonets.
“I had to think quickly, or we would have been captured by the Nazis, or worse!” He would say.
“My hands were still in the soap where I was washing when they surrounded us. So, I scooped the bubbles and blew them into the eyes of the Nazi soldiers. Blinded and eyes stinging from the soap, we grabbed their weapons and captured the entire battalion,” he would proclaim, wide-eyed and without a hint of a smile.
That story has been told innumerable times to my children and many others with any connection to the Carpenter family. It is a pleasing memory, but it wasn’t until 15 years ago, or so, that I discovered what the important message in the story really is.
I was in my first term on the Shelby County Commission, and I had been asked to deliver a short speech to a group of Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts on Memorial Day. The group gathered annually to place American flags on the graves of the men and women buried at the Memphis National Cemetery, a United States Veterans Cemetery in the Nutbush community.
I remembered Big Charlie’s story and how much delight it brought me as a child, and decided to include it in the speech. I thought about the job he did washing clothes. There was no electric washing machine on the battlefield. The uniforms were often wool, and the stench must have been overwhelming at times. They used caustic lye soap to clean the uniforms, which could be stained with blood, urine, feces, or infested with lice. The job was the same day after day in scorching heat or frigid cold.
What Big Charlie and the men in his unit did was their duty.
Duty is not a word we hear as often anymore. Perhaps it is because duty is considered a moral or legal obligation, and we are divided about what is moral and whether we must follow laws that are deemed by us to be unjust. But, duty is a responsibility that is often difficult, unpleasant, and sometimes unfair, but if not performed will do a disservice or even harm to others.
I don’t know if when Big Charlie joined the Army, he knew his modest schooling would limit his military options. What I do know is that without him and others like him, sickness, disease, and morale among the troops would have been adversely affected.
In essence, this is where we stand as a nation today. We have a duty to act in small or big ways to instill honor, integrity, fairness, justice, and common decency in our government institutions. More than once each day, we read or watch examples of blatant corruption, self-dealing, or cover-ups of heinous criminal acts. And it’s become the norm, expected, just how things are. Failure to act has already resulted in harm, and it is a disservice to those who gave their lives defending our nation and its values.
General Mark Milley, former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was embroiled in serious disagreements with President Trump during his first term about the domestic use of the military, which were widely publicized even after Trump’s defeat in 2020. Milley retired in 2023, and during his farewell remarks, said this about the role of the military in our country:
"We don't take an oath to a country. We don't take an oath to a tribe. We don't take an oath to a religion. We don't take an oath to a king, or queen, or a tyrant, or a dictator. And we don't take an oath to a wannabe dictator. We don't take an oath to an individual. We take an oath to the Constitution... and we're willing to die to protect it."
What has been at stake for more than a decade now is the Constitution and the rights it espouses. I believe as Americans, if we believe in what the Constitution aspires to – a more perfect union—then it is now our duty to protect it.
For some, their duty is to offer themselves, their reputations, and their families for public service. Others will do their duty through peaceful protest, lobbying against bad legislation, or using their legal expertise to challenge unfair statutes and government actions. Some can use their voices and social media platforms to educate and inspire others to action. And many of us will only have a seemingly innocuous duty, like Big Charlie, but with enormous implications. That duty is to show up and vote.
If you believe that as an American you have a duty to protect the Constitution, then I challenge you over this Memorial Day to honor the men and women who have lost their lives defending this sacred document by considering what your duty is. Then, do your part.