To most of the world, today is just another day. To one country, it is The Day. The Fourth of July is America's favorite day to live up to American stereotypes, and we are damn well proud of it. All around the world, Americans are following tradition: preparing for a barbeque in the backyard, cutting up the watermelon, and getting ready for the fireworks.

Those that take to the internet post a plethora of memes regarding freedom and bald eagles. Everyone else in the world sighs and lets America have its time. (In truth, we all know how messed up America is, but damn it all if we're not going to pretend for a day that we're the best. Exhibit A; this commercial.)

But what about the soliders? What about the ones who are stationed overseas for Independence Day? What do they do?

Three years ago, I did the same thing that any American did, with slight changes. I hung out with my family and friends, had a barbeque, all that jazz. Then, we got in our car, drove to post, and joined countless others in the fields. Throughout the night, we were treated to a free concert, some years by singers like Toby Keith, other years the local singing duo on base. The entire crowd would sing along at the top of their lungs to "God Bless The USA" by Lee Greenwood. Everyone would sing and cheer along to Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA." And of course, when we stood for the presenting of the colors, we would sing our national anthem with pride. I can only imagine what it sounded like to all the locals "out on the economy."

This is where our tradition differed. We'd sing our national anthem, and then whoever was presenting would call out the battalions and squadrons that were home at our base. Once your battalion was called, you'd hooah as loud as you could. Gotta represent. It wasn't over then, either. Now, they called the name of every state, and this time, the cheers were louder, there were more of them. Families and children were all screaming for their state now. Texas almost always was the loudest. Typical.

And then we'd turn our attention up to the baseball field across from my old high school. We'd climb up the hill to get a better view. The band would continue playing patriotic song and patriotic song. Then, the fireworks start. We "ooh" and "aah" in unison as the fireworks explode in the sky. Most of the city we live in can see them. While the Germans don't celebrate the holiday, they've long grown accustomed to the extravaganza.

It's been three years now since I've seen fireworks on the Fourth of July. The base closed, the Army and their families moved on, most going back stateside. So now, we do things ourselves. We hang up my dad's flag. We make the potato salad, grill the burgers, and have our little shindig in the backyard. We make jokes about needing to be super patriotic. I'll reminisce about "the good ol' days."

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the cheesy songs that everyone got teary eyed for. Happy Fourth of July, America, wherever you may find yourself. Stay safe and enjoy the holiday.