For all the veterans

Veterans Day and Memorial Day can often run together.  Most of the time, as I've watched today, the emphasis seems to be on those who gave that last measure of devotion.  Or, if not, then on those who served in combat or during war.  Even if it's not stated that way. 

But properly, Veterans Day is for all veterans, war or peace, who served our country.  Even those today, serving in a hot mess dumpster fire military defending a dying nation.  We still 'honor' them, a word that seldom means much today, but we're told we should do in this particular case.  But then, the news recently said on Suicide Prevention Day that we should honor suicide victims.  Which I thought was wrong thinking to the extreme. 

But I agree that we should honor veterans.  Including those who had the good fortune to serve in peace time.  Therefore I post this picture:

It's of my dad, his dad and his two older brothers some time in the 1950s (his younger two brothers - also veterans - are not there).

To the left is his oldest brother, who flew in a B-17 during WW2.  Hollywood handsome and very proud of his service, he obtained a pilot's license after the war and maintained a passion for flying throughout his life.  He was also the most decorated brother, being the first US airman to shoot down a German bomber by himself (a Ju-88).  In those days any special accomplishment made you a celebrity in the name of ginning up support for the war effort.  Of all family members, he was most willing to discuss his wartime exploits.  In later years, those discussions did take on a more introspective tone. 

Next is my granddad.  He was not the best father.  Today he would be unforgivable in keeping with our enlightened developments as a society.  Struggling with drink and being what we call abusive, there was no love lost between him and my dad.  But he was a war veteran as well, serving in the merchant marine in the First World War.  Since I think I only met with him a couple times, and then as a toddler or younger, I can't say anything else about his service.  After all, Dad seldom mentioned anything about him other than his hunting for food and prowess at gardening (one of the few things Dad gave him credit for). 

On the far right is my dad's next oldest brother - and the one he was closest to.  One of those famous types who are gentle as a lamb - unless you push him too far.  One Christmas Eve, while driving in downtown Chicago, he was cut off by a city bus.  Enraged, he managed to swing in front of it, then stop the car, shut the engine off, and throw the keys on the floor.  The downtown traffic was backed up to Minnesota within minutes.  In WW2, he served with Patton as a medic, and was part of the Battle of the Bulge.  He was awarded a late commendation shortly before he passed from cancer.  That's when he asked my dad what the Ardennes was, and my dad explained that it was the Bulge.  His response was typical for him - all he could remember was it being very cold and people shooting at him. 

Finally there is my dad.  His younger brother and he went into the 1950s without much thought of serving.  His youngest brother was fourteen years his junior, and too young.  Eventually he would join and serve in combat during the Vietnam War.  

But my dad's younger brother didn't seem interested in living up to their brothers, and that suited Dad just fine.  Dad was, at that time, the 'rough one' of the brothers, and more concerned about getting in trouble with his friends (one such friend went to prison for murdering a man during a robbery - but  he was the one who encouraged Dad to date my mom, so there you go).  That side of him eased up once he became a father. 

One day Dad learned his younger brother had joined the army, simply because he didn't want to be left out.  The Korean War was going on, and he decided to keep the family tradition of combat veterans alive. That prompted Dad to join, since he didn't want to be the one in the family not to serve.  The two of them did basic together at Fort Knox (Agony and Misery), with Dad eventually spending most of his time at Fort Hood.  They didn't have a chance to serve in combat, because by the time they exited basic training, the Korean War armistice was signed.  

Serving in the armored engineers, Dad learned all you can know about building things and taking automobiles apart.  Hence that farmhouse he rebuilt from the ground up that I've written about.  He had a chance to go to school and learn how to work on helicopters (a new thing back then). But that would involve flying in helicopters, something he wasn't keen on doing.  Plus, he was older than most of his peers in the army, and was itching to get back to civilian life and continue his lifelong career in the railroad.  

So there you have it.  Veterans all, including those who were fortunate enough to dodge combat.  Mom's oldest brother and father were also combat veterans. Her dad served in the army in WWI at the end of that conflict, serving in the Argonne Forest.  Her bother served in the  South Pacific in the Army Air Corps.  It was his unit that was responsible for shooting down Admiral Yamamoto.  Her other brother couldn't serve owing to health problems (he lost a lung when he was little).  There were also other relatives, great uncles and all, who served in and out of war time.  But whether combat or peace time, this is a day to honor them all, and so I do.