While on a recent trip, our tour guide took us to one of many battlefields. The guide commented that on that certain day 1500 soldiers had been killed on one side, but only 400 had been killed on the other side.
…ONLY 400 had been killed! …only 400!
These ONLY 400 people had the day before been someone’s son or daughter, someone’s brother or sister, husband or wife, friend. These 400 souls had become an estimated number.
Years ago, my wife Betty and I took a river cruise down the Dnipro River from Kyiv to Odessa. Amid the good food and pleasant company, a dark, recurring theme emerged. At every stop, we visited memorials—not to artists or inventors, but to the slaughtered. In Babi Yar, we stood where 34,000 Jews were murdered and thrown into a ravine in just 48 hours.
As a Navy veteran, I was invited to join Honor Flight Kentucky—a program that flies WWII, Korean, and Vietnam veterans to Washington, D.C., for an all-expense-paid day of remembrance.
In early October, my wife Betty and I headed to the Lexington airport. While spouses couldn’t fly with us, they were treated to a full day of local tours and events, culminating in a dinner at the Aviation Museum to wait for our return.
After a large breakfast, our flight took off for D.C., where overcast skies gave way to a perfect, beautiful day. Each veteran was assigned a companion to help us navigate the memorials. Visiting the WWII, Korean, and Vietnam monuments was deeply moving, but Arlington National Cemetery left me profoundly shaken, questioning the heavy cost of war and the lives of the young men and women buried there. We also witnessed the flawlessly precise changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
The real surprise came when we landed back in Lexington. As we taxied, emergency vehicles flanked our plane with flashing lights, and fire engines sprayed water over the aircraft in tribute.
Inside the terminal, the reception was overwhelming. We walked through a massive gauntlet of hundreds of people—families, children, and a bagpipe band—waving flags, shaking hands, and shouting "Welcome Home." For the Vietnam veterans especially, it was the healing reception they never received decades ago.
The experience mirrored my visits to Ukraine. It left a lasting disturbance in my mind. We memorialize our own young, fallen soldiers in marble, but we rarely represent the equal number of enemy youths who died facing them—let alone the endless civilian casualties.
Some find answers to this brutality in the Bible. But by page four, in Genesis 4:8, humanity's story truly begins: "...Cain set upon his brother Abel and killed him."
Whether driven by jealousy, greed, power, or hate, the motive matters less than the result. We learn so much from history and scripture, yet we have learned nothing constructive from this first tragedy. Why, after all this time, have we failed to evolve into the peaceful human beings God created us to be?
Copyright © 2026 Make A Person Smile - All Rights Reserved.