On Monday Morning, seven military veterans holding ceremonial rifles lined a sidewalk inside Woodland Cemetery, their shadows overlooking graves lined with miniature United States flags.

Each soldier within the Yolo County American Legion Post 77 honor guard stood at attention as another of their peers issued orders, timing exactly when the seven-member squad would fire their weapons to perform a 21-gun salute for the fallen soldiers buried in Woodland.

Three sets of seven shots were fired during Taps for the annual Memorial Day Program at the cemetery, located at 800 West St., where many community members gathered to honor the sacrifices of Woodland residents who sacrificed civilian life to join the military and died in service.

“We gather today to convey our appreciation to many heroes — American men and women who have stood, ready to take the risk and pay the ultimate price for their country,” 2nd Vice Commander of the Yolo Post Robert Stoermer said to the crowd. “Our appreciation of them grows deeper through the years as each Memorial Day, we gather here in front of the memorial to pay our respects to those who have served in the United States Armed Forces and are no longer with us.”

Members of the Legion were tasked with placing hundreds of flags on the graves of the fallen soldiers buried across the cemetery in the heart of Woodland, honoring the sacrifice of their lives in serving the nation.

The main speaker for Monday’s 45-minute-long ceremony was Ron Pitfield, a historian for American Legion Post 77.

Pitfield recounted his youth growing up in England, just 10 miles away from the Brookwood Cemetery in Brookwood, Surrey, England, a large cemetery including a significant section dedicated to American military personnel who died during World War I.

He told the crowd gathered that it’s easy to be overwhelmed by the number of fallen soldiers at cemeteries similar to the one Pitfield lived near. However, he encouraged the crowd to go up to those graves marked with the American flag and to pay respects to those he said “were prepared to sacrifice themselves” for their country.

“I urge you to look at the individual gravestones or name on a wall and think of the single person memorialized on that cross in a field or name on a wall identifies an individual at birth,” Pitfield shared. “He or she was held as a baby by a loving mother through the years, this baby grew into a loving child and then a teenager. Perhaps this child had natural talents as a musician, maybe a budding baseball player, perhaps a joker who can make their parents laugh, and maybe somebody who played hooky to go fishing.

“This person was special and unique. However, they all had one thing in common: they were all prepared to sacrifice themselves in order to preserve our freedom and our way of life.”

Pitfield took time in his address to share memories he had with an American soldier named Joe, or as Pitfield remembers him, “G.I. Joe.” Pitfield shared he met Joe when he arrived in Germany on Thanksgiving Day, 1964, where he was sent to his bunk to find his bed covered with all kinds of tactical gear and clothes. When he turned around, he saw Joe — all five feet and eight inches of him — grinning at him and welcoming him to their quarters.

“Joe, the person I grew to like and admire, was a five foot, eight inch Boston Irish. He lived up to all the stories of the Irish. He was always ready to crack a joke, play a trick or just get up the mischief,” Pitfield recounted with a smile. “He had a grin that went from ear to ear, and to this day, I’m guaranteed that he was a real challenge to his teachers.”

He shared multiple stories of his friend during their time in Germany — from Joe throwing a shoe at a German cuckoo clock and ultimately breaking it to late nights at the pub. Pitfield recounted the friendship he shared with this American stranger.

During one of those late nights at the pub, Joe shared his story with Pitfield: he was born in 1939 and had two brothers and two sisters. His parents both died when he was young, resulting in the children being split up, and Joe went to live with an uncle and an aunt who raised him.

He kept in contact with just one sister who wrote to him. It was after graduating from high school that Joe served in the Navy for three years. Following his discharge, he started working for an electrical company in Massachusetts, and at some point, he met a young lady and got married. They were happy, looking forward to their first baby.

Then his wife was killed in a car accident.

“Joe never told me the agony he must have gone through,” Pitfield remembered, emotion choking his voice. “However, Joe ended up in the army.”

A few weeks after that conversation, Joe was reading the American military newspaper, the Stars and Stripes. Pitfield said it was then that he and Joe learned the United States was looking to extend the draft to include married men with one child, something Joe was upset to learn, according to Pitfield.

“(Joe) told me, ‘Ron, I did something last week. I went to the enlistment office. I have only three months left to go, but they allowed me to extend my time just enough so I can do a tour of Vietnam,’“ Pitfield said, remembering the words of his friend. “(He said) ‘I have nobody if I go, nobody will remember me or grieve over me, then perhaps someone with a wife and family will not have to go.’”

Joe’s decision to extend his enlistment would prove to be the ultimate sacrifice — just a few weeks later, after Joe and Pitfield parted ways, Joe was in Vietnam when his platoon was sent in to provide relief for a 15-man night patrol who stumbled into an enemy, Viet Cong battalion headquarters.

Joe was one of the 34 Americans killed that day, with 41 dead before the battle ended two days later.

“Well, Joe, you told me nobody would remember you or grieve for you. However, you forgot me — I have never forgotten you,” Pitfield shared, tears in his eyes. “I still remember that great big grin of yours as if it was yesterday. However, I hope that your other wish came true. Somewhere in this great country, there’s an unknown father and husband who has had a beautiful and full life because you went so that he could stay at home.”

Yolo Post 77 Chaplain Ted Hillyer concluded the ceremony on Monday morning with a prayer, calling for the crowd to “uncover” and remove their hats as the audience shushed itself to listen to Hillyer’s call to remember folks like Joe — men and women who have died in the line of duty serving in the United States military.

“We remember with deep gratitude the brave men and women who gave their lives so that we might enjoy these liberties,” Hillyer openly prayed, his eyes scanning the sky as he spoke. “Help us use our freedom wisely to serve others, to seek justice, and to reflect your light in the world. Longing for peace, comfort the families who have lost loved ones in the service to our great nation, and remind them that their sacrifice was not in vain. May we live each day with thankfulness and courage.”