What I owe my friends who never came home

Jason,   Leading up to this Memorial Day weekend, I had the honor of speaking at a winging ceremony in Pensacola, Florida (the "Cradle of Naval Aviation"). This is the place where future naval aviators and flight officers train to earn their "Wings of Gold."      In my remarks, I reminded the newly winged flight officers that our country has been defended by men and women who flew untested machines, using unproven technologies in peacetime and war. They did it out of service to something greater than self. They endured dangers much greater than those faced by most Americans, and did so for their country, for this democracy, for their families and for our way of life. They did the hard things that needed to be done.    While never perfect, American power backed by men and women willing to sacrifice has safeguarded the world's sea lanes, stood up international norms and institutions to the benefit of millions, and through deterrence and sometimes the use of force, helped bring about the longest period of relative peace between major powers in human history. They acted with courage in the face of their own fear. Throughout our history, some Americans have stood up and worn the uniform not knowing what Uncle Sam would ask of them or where they would be sent. Many, of course, did not come home.   For me, while it wasn't always a rose garden, for the most part, I loved wearing the uniform and serving. Still, I live each day knowing how close I (or my husband) could have come to being someone who did not come home: a missed altitude in bad weather after a long flight, a catastrophic mechanical failure at a critical moment in flight, a surface-to-air rocket-propelled grenade launched into a transport helo, an IED into a convoy in Kabul. Those things never happened to me, but they could have so easily — and most under circumstances for which I would have had no control.   Yes, I will enjoy this weekend with hot dogs, and T-ball games, and family events, but each Memorial Day, I think about friends who were killed in aviation mishaps or in combat and I take stock of my own life. I'm lucky. I owe them something in this life that I still have, when theirs was cut short so soon. That debt is a big part of my determination to make our country a better place.   There was a time in my life when courage meant hopping into a cockpit in the dark of night and flying a dangerous mission. Today, it means not shrinking away and being silent when you know you should stand up for what's right. That's what courage is to me now. It's what I owe my friends who never came home.   Wishing you and your family a safe Memorial Day,  Amy PAID FOR BY HONOR BOUND (PO BOX 95, LEXINGTON, KY 40588) NOT AUTHORIZED BY ANY CANDIDATE OR CANDIDATE'S COMMITTEE.  Honor Bound PO Box 95 Lexington, KY 40588 United States    If you believe you received this message in error or no longer wish to receive these email updates, please unsubscribe.