Memorial Day was established in 1868 to honor Civil War soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice.

Originally called Decoration Day, for the tradition of decorating graves of the fallen with flowers, it became a national holiday in 1971, observed annually on the last Monday in May.

As 90-year-old Daniel Raines ponders the 900-per-day death rate of his fellow World War II veterans, some close friends, he laments the holiday’s drift from its intended focus to one of bargain shopping and revelry.

“A lot of people think of Memorial Day as a celebration, but there is sadness, too,’’ said Raines, a resident of the Miami Veteran’s Administration Medical Center’s Community Living Center. “You mourn; you don’t celebrate.’’

Raines, formerly of Plantation — by way of a food-service career on Long Island — enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1941, after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

He served stateside with the Signal Corps and received a medical discharge in 1943 after a serious on-base accident, but feels part of his generation’s profound sacrifice: an estimated 417,000 Americans in combat.

On a recent trip to Washington, D.C., sponsored by the Honor Flight Network — a nonprofit that flies veterans free of charge to see the national war memorials — Raines found himself gazing at the Iwo Jima statue.

“The hair on the back of my head stood up and I cried,’’ he said. “It made a very big impression on me because so many didn’t come home. . . . I felt I was part of that.’’

Quiet reflection

On Memorial Day, Richard Luis Melendez won’t be celebrating either. He’ll have a quiet picnic with his family, avoid loud fireworks — he saw too many real explosions in Afghanistan — and think about Cpl. Travis Woods.

Woods, of Redding, Calif., assigned to the 1st Marine Special Operations Battalion, Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command, was killed in action on Sept. 9, 2007, in Afghanistan. So far, about 6,500 American troops have died in Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Melendez, of Miramar, didn’t know Woods well, but as the U.S. Army combat engineer who outfitted him for battle in deadly Helmand Province, he was among the last to see Woods alive.

Melendez and fellow Sgt. Nelson Mendoza, his South Florida “battle buddy,’’ met Woods at Forward Operating Base Robinson, after a Chinook helicopter dropped him off.

“We got him all his gear,’’ said Melendez. “He lasted two weeks. He was 21 years old.’’

Melendez, a 36-year-old VA hospital customer-service representative and a father of three, was inspired to enlist after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. He survived eight firefights and countless rocket-propelled grenade and mortar attacks, one of which left his pal Mendoza with a traumatic brain injury.

He remembers the memorial service for Cpl. Woods in Kandahar.

“They played his music really loud. His eulogy card stated he wanted ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ ’’ — the Guns N’ Roses version.

Melendez begins to tear up. “People don’t realize what an impact it has on other soldiers.’’