This is the Veteran’s Memorial in the small town near where I live. It is cared for by an elderly man, a veteran, who comes two or three times a month and mows and waters and rearranges the flowers. Sometimes he comes alone, sometimes his family accompanies him. The names of all the men from our town who died or were missing in action in every war and conflict are inscribed here, as well as those veterans who have died since. A military historian has told me that he had heard that our town contributed more soldiers to WWII, per capita, than any other town in the US. I don’t know if that is so. But the Memorial is certainly a point of pride and a place where duty and responsibility meet.