My uncle Donnie was a bad ass with the First Special Service Force, a.k.a., the Devils Brigade. Shrapnel from a German 88 severed his spine and almost killed him - in the army medical care tried their best also after his paralysis left him with numerous bed sores and infections. His uncle drove from Miami and kidnapped him from the hospital and brought him home - helping him stay afloat in the ocean, paddling with his arms, getting stronger and curing his bedsores.
He recovered enough to get a law degree from the university of Miami and to open his own law office. But the continued health challenges from his severe war injuries led to his death a decade later.
Like so many veterans, the fact that he didn’t die the same hour he was injured in battle - and survived for years after - in my mind makes him just as eligible to be honored on Memorial Day as the other veterans who gave their last measure of devotion during the war.
R.I.P. Donnie