When I was a handsome lad of 20 and in Navy Hospital Corpsman School, our CO announced that all of us would be doing three or four day stints on six different wards at San Diego's old Balboa Hospital. The first ward I went to was the burn ward. I did'nt do much, but noticed what a howling torture burns are, especially the daily removal of gauze from the burned skin. The unit had six Marines, all of whom got their wounds in Beirut when they happened to be in the barracks blown up by a jihadi car bomber. Over the next few days, I got to know the patients in the unit as people. Most of these guys were seriously maimed and would never lead productive lives, never know the warmth of a wife at night, never hear the pitter patter of rug rats. I was never in any combat, but nonetheless it struck me that these guys had sacrificed everything they had and would ever have for that mission. Whenever I hear people describe sacrifice, I remember the burn ward and know in my heart what real sacrifice is all about. To my mind, the most important of all holidays is not Christmas, Thanksgiving or Labor Day, yet these days are paid days off at my employer. Today was not. I was saddened that so many of my co-workers had no idea it was a holiday today; everything was open, including our office. Most just shrugged their shoulders and went about their day's work. Far too few of us have seen what I have seen. The only "Happy Veterans Day" I got was from another vet in the office. I fear that their sacrifice is being watered down in our nation. As for me, I remember.