This Memorial Day weekend, Americans will be commemorating the nearly 1.4 million lives lost in wars and conflicts since the country’s founding 250 years ago.

Over 6,000 Coloradans are among those killed in action, including some who died before we were even a state.

Yet, if we’re not careful, we can grow numb to it all given those astronomical numbers, though the numbness fades when we attach names to statistics. Thankfully, you don’t need a personal connection to a member of the armed forces to fully appreciate their sacrifice – but it’s still important to know your history.

A great deal of our nation’s challenges stem from ignorance, especially when it comes to knowing and appreciating the country’s past. We’re all guilty of not knowing what we don’t know, but there are far too many who also don’t care to know.

There’s a whole rising generation afflicted by recency bias – a tendency to disproportionately overemphasize modern-day events. Not only can that assessment be distorted by inaccurate perceptions of the present, but it also tends to ignore time-tested truths from years gone by.

But the consequences of ignorance aren’t just intellectual. They’re also emotional.

When you’re unaware of the sacrifices of past generations, you’re far less likely to fall in love with your country. Rather than being charitable, you become critical. Instead of developing a generosity of spirit, you become petty and self-absorbed. It’s almost as if you take great pleasure in pointing out mistakes.

One of the profound truths of life is how we’re all the beneficiaries of the labors of not only imperfect people we don’t know, but people we likely don’t even know existed at all. For example, this Memorial Day weekend, I wonder how many Americans will be thinking about the soldiers of the 1st Colorado Infantry Regiment of Volunteers, a.k.a. the Pikes Peakers.

Likely, not many – but more should, because without them, we might not even be the United States of America.

Back in 1861, explorer William Gilpin was appointed by President Abraham Lincoln to be our first territorial governor. Gilpin organized the Infantry to help support the Union at the start of the Civil War.

A ragtag group of soldiers, they were miners, ranchers, and merchants. They received word in early 1862 that Confederate soldiers from Texas were on their way to lay claim to the Colorado gold mines and forge a pathway to California. Led by Colonel John P. Slough, a Denver lawyer, the 1,300 men marched 400 miles south in just 14 days through snow into the New Mexico Territory to confront and push them back.

Although the fighting was considered something of a stalemate, the Union soldiers destroyed the supply lines of the Confederacy. The price was steep: 51 soldiers from Colorado were killed. As a result of their sacrifice, the Confederate troops retreated.

In recognition of its significance, the Battle of Glorieta Pass has been called “The Gettysburg of the West.” If the Confederacy had been successful, the whole tide of the Civil War could have changed.

It might be an overstatement to suggest that Colorado men saved America back in 1862, but they sure helped a whole lot. The men of the 1st Colorado Infantry Regiment who paid the ultimate price helped make the mission a success.

The most recent U.S. heroes lost in battle were killed back in March by a drone attack at the Port of Shuaiba in Kuwait. They were all part of the 103rd Sustainment Command, an Army Reserve unit based in Iowa. They should be remembered as six soldiers who helped stop Iran from getting a nuclear weapon.

At just 20 years of age, Sergeant Declan J. Coady was the youngest. At 54, Chief Warrant OfficerRobert M. Marzan was the oldest. He was considered a father-figure to many of the younger soldiers. Captain Cody A. Khork, 35, was planning to propose to his girlfriend upon his return. Sergeant 1st Class Nicole M. Amor, 39, was days away from returning home to her husband and children. Sergeant 1st Class Noah L. Tietjens, 42, was a devoted husband and father. Major Jeffrey R. O’Brien, 45, was remembered as a leader, teacher, and mentor.

It’s an impossibility for each of us to know the stories of every American man or woman who paid the ultimate price these last 250 years. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t know more than we likely already do.

Paul J. Batura is a local writer and founder of the 4:8 Media Network. He can be reached via email Paul@PaulBatura.com or on X @PaulBatura.