omaha beach, salerno. and halfway around the world on guadalcanal. now tarawa, pork chop hill, the chosin reservoir. and in 100 rice paddies and jungles of a place called vietnam, under one such marker lies a young man, martin, trapped down, who left his job in a small town barber shop in 1917 to go to france with the famed rainbow division there on the western front. he was killed trying to carry a message between battalions under heavy artillery fire. we're told that on his body was found a diary on the flyleaf under the heading. my pledge. he had written these words. america must win this war. therefore, i will work. i will save. i will sacrifice. i will endure. i will fight cheerfully and do my utmost as if the issue of the whole struggle depended on me alone. the crisis we are facing today does not require of us the kind of sacrifice that martin tracked down. so many thousands of others were called upon to make. it does, however, our best effort and our willingness to believe in ourselves and to believe in our capacity to perform great deeds, to