Today is the day we honor our fallen and active military men and women and our veterans of all wars. There is no mail - federal buildings are closed - many activities are planned.
My Dad is a WWII survivor. He quit high school to join the Marines when word of the bombing of Pearl Harbor spread throughout his neighborhood. Many of his friends declared they wouldn't sign up to fight and possibly be killed. There wasn't a moment's pause for my Dad to decide he would go to serve his country.
I grew up hearing my Dad tell stories of the war in the Pacific. Many Dads didn't speak a word of their experiences. I heard his stories many times. He needs to talk about that time and he does to this day. He is 86 and sometimes wonders why he has lived this long. He still has much to accomplish and writes a newsletter his Marine Division.
As he talks I see him as the 17 year old high school kid whose parents wouldn't sign the papers so he could enlist and then wearing them down - they consent. He completes his training and is sent off in a huge ship where he was almost crushed when transferring from the boat to the ship. The ocean was so rough that as he climbed the chain ladders to board the ship the waves lifted then crashed the boat into the ship and at that moment hands lifted him up into the ship. Then they sailed across the Pacific to land on unprotected island shores with snipers in the trees shooting at the young Marines running for cover holding their weapons above their heads to keep them out of the water. Later when a fellow Marine was killed, he was told to pick up the large BAR weapon and carried it in many battles. He was wounded twice.
He isn't a large man but he is a huge hero. His stories are detailed and he cries when he remembers the battles and the deaths of his friends.
We owe them. We honor them. I love him.
My Dad is a WWII survivor. He quit high school to join the Marines when word of the bombing of Pearl Harbor spread throughout his neighborhood. Many of his friends declared they wouldn't sign up to fight and possibly be killed. There wasn't a moment's pause for my Dad to decide he would go to serve his country.
I grew up hearing my Dad tell stories of the war in the Pacific. Many Dads didn't speak a word of their experiences. I heard his stories many times. He needs to talk about that time and he does to this day. He is 86 and sometimes wonders why he has lived this long. He still has much to accomplish and writes a newsletter his Marine Division.
As he talks I see him as the 17 year old high school kid whose parents wouldn't sign the papers so he could enlist and then wearing them down - they consent. He completes his training and is sent off in a huge ship where he was almost crushed when transferring from the boat to the ship. The ocean was so rough that as he climbed the chain ladders to board the ship the waves lifted then crashed the boat into the ship and at that moment hands lifted him up into the ship. Then they sailed across the Pacific to land on unprotected island shores with snipers in the trees shooting at the young Marines running for cover holding their weapons above their heads to keep them out of the water. Later when a fellow Marine was killed, he was told to pick up the large BAR weapon and carried it in many battles. He was wounded twice.
He isn't a large man but he is a huge hero. His stories are detailed and he cries when he remembers the battles and the deaths of his friends.
We owe them. We honor them. I love him.
hey hey.
ReplyDeletesorry i made your gut hurt, that wasnt my intention =/
my burns doing better. almost totally healed by now =)