It is never a bad thing to stop and remember those who fought and died for people they never knew. Without their sacrifice, who knows what kind of country we would live in today. Granted, we are not a perfect country. But we are a free country.
I have never had a family member, that I am aware of, actually die in combat. But I have had plenty serve in one branch or another. My sister Glenda was in the Army Reserves; she served in Honduras, and the Gulf War. My brother-in-law Larry was in the Air Force; I don't think he served during combat but I know he was stationed in Japan for a time, as well as various U.S. bases. My Uncle Eddy, who passed two February's ago, also served in the Army and was stationed in Japan, and Guam. My Great-Uncle Larry was also in the military, but Mom can't remember for sure what branch.
I am so grateful for ancestors long ago who fought and died so that today I could sit in my kitchen, typing on my borrowed laptop, without fear. Police will not break into my home because I've broken some silly law, like cutting my hair short or wearing pants (capri's really), and I can sip my lukewarm coffee while the air conditioner hums and Justin plays X-box with a thankful heart.
They did not die in vain.