Today is my day. Today is SWWBO's day. Today is my Dad's day. Today is Dusty's day. Today is Bill's day. Neffi's, Bloodspite's, Sanger's, Jim B's, Mike L's, Jim C's, John S', V29's, Sergeant B's, 1SG Keith's, Oldloadr's, 74's, CAPT H's, a certain Canadian Gunner who shall remain nameless, a certain Redleg Captain who shall remain nameless, RetRsvMike's, the 'Phibian's, Lex's, Matty's, Chuck's, Fishmugger, John(NTA), Heartless Libertarian's, Kevin's, Grumpy's, Grimmy's, the list is endless, and I know I didn't list everybody - feel free to add yourself in the comments. That would be a nice touch, actually.
But, even though it grew from Armistice Day, and is Remembrance Day to our Anglosphere buddies, it is *not* my Grandfather's day. Daddy Jack, a soldier of the Great War, well, his day now is Memorial Day.
Today we mostly celebrate the living. The brand-new vets in Basic Training through to the survivors. Those who "saw the elephant," as Civil War soldiers were wont to say to those whose service required no similar animal husbandry. We honor the dead in May.
Oh, heck, today we Veterans honor the dead, too. We can't help it. The bonds of combat soldiery are tightest because of those who went with us but didn't come back, they took the low road while we took the high. Most of us have an "absent companion" or four that we drink to, when the time is right. Today it will be right. Technically I I have1719 that I will drink to. 1719 little shots of tequila. Which is good - that number didn't go up last year! Actually, I won't do it tonight when we get back to the ship from gadding about in San Juan. My habit is to spread 'em out between Veteran's Day and Memorial Day. I suspect my father doesn't even try. If he toasted all his ghosts, his liver would rip itself out of his belly and run. I rather expect Bill has a similar problem.
I honor my two favorite veterans: SWWBO, and my Father. The rest of you can take your positions after that. I honor my two favorite people who sweated out what their veterans were off doing: Mom and my sister. Well, Mom has moved to the Memorial Day slot, dammit. That still twinges, two years on.
We have bonds, we veterans. Bonds that sometimes our closest family don't understand. Why does Grampa Joe keep bailing that wino out of trouble? Because that wino lost two fingers tossing a grenade out of a two-man fighting position during a vicious night fight on Guadalcanal, that's why. Because that stranger that Dad greets like a long lost brother once a year is, in fact, a long lost brother, who shared the exhilaration of the night combat drop on Point Salines. Because the quiet guy you've never seen before extracted your Dad's best friend's body from a helicopter crash in Mogadishu by cutting off his legs - so that no man would be left behind. Because that guy over there negotiated with Aideed to get the legs back.
Because that woman sitting at the table comforted many of your grandfather's friends as they lay dying, the last thing they ever saw, or heard. Then there's *that* woman at the local emporium downtwon who earned a Silver Star attacking outnumbered into a jihadi ambush and her team survived because of her leadership. Because that janitor in your school spent a long night on LZ X-Ray, cut off from his unit, keeping his squadmates alive. Because that Bank President looking at ties over there drove an AMTRAC across the reef at Tarawa under a withering fire so your uncle wouldn't have to slog in on foot, fighting both the sea and the Japanese. That man in Lions with your great-uncle? Your uncle helped him walk out from the Frozen Chosin.
Because that man serving turkey at the shelter helped Uncle Bob deal with Esther's "Dear John" letter, that arrived right before "Big Push." And him, that guy playing with his grandkids, who always seems to have some candy for you... well, he's a "Glow-worm," a fighter pilot who jumped from a burning aircraft after he lost that dogfight with the Bf-109, and spent the rest of the war in a POW camp - and survived the forced marches to the west, as the germans were falling back from the onslaught of the Red Army. His buddy? The wingman whose 'six' was being covered. We are also a maudlin, sentimental group. We honor ALL of our veterans. Especially the ones who didn't really volunteer, but would and did give their lives freely for their brothers in arms, too.
We have the bond of shared experiences, whether it's Basic, Jump School, the JRTC, Graf, Pahakuloa, Camp Red Cloud, Hof, Okinawa, Tay Ninh, Vung Tau, Suwon, Phenix City, El Paso, Biloxi, FOB Speicher, Fallujah, Al Anbar, the convoys across the Atlantic, storming over a beach, busting bunkers, hunkering under artillery, rescuing families caught in the middle, finding that cask of cognac and... and the list goes on and on and on. And your newest veterans - they have their traumas, too. But we learned from our Vietnam brothers, in fact, our Vietnam brothers lead the way, working to make sure they get welcomed home as they should be. And that those among 'em, get taken care of as needs be.
I am proud of my place among you, you men and women who simply did their duty. Who didn't run. Who came when asked. I am among giants. But my thoughts will be with the newest wave of veterans.
The Republic is well served. Well served indeed. And as long as we find men and women willing to do the hard, dirty work - there will be a Republic.
As the Marines say, "Semper Fidelis"
Even Google noticed... that's two years in a row. Dogpile always marks the day. Dogs are good at that.
Marking.. 8^ )
** Additional from the Adjutant ** Cleaned up a few links. Also note that the Live search page also commemorates the day properly, with a picture of the Korean War Memorial, and appropriate links.
But, even though it grew from Armistice Day, and is Remembrance Day to our Anglosphere buddies, it is *not* my Grandfather's day. Daddy Jack, a soldier of the Great War, well, his day now is Memorial Day.
Today we mostly celebrate the living. The brand-new vets in Basic Training through to the survivors. Those who "saw the elephant," as Civil War soldiers were wont to say to those whose service required no similar animal husbandry. We honor the dead in May.
Oh, heck, today we Veterans honor the dead, too. We can't help it. The bonds of combat soldiery are tightest because of those who went with us but didn't come back, they took the low road while we took the high. Most of us have an "absent companion" or four that we drink to, when the time is right. Today it will be right. Technically I I have
I honor my two favorite veterans: SWWBO, and my Father. The rest of you can take your positions after that. I honor my two favorite people who sweated out what their veterans were off doing: Mom and my sister. Well, Mom has moved to the Memorial Day slot, dammit. That still twinges, two years on.
We have bonds, we veterans. Bonds that sometimes our closest family don't understand. Why does Grampa Joe keep bailing that wino out of trouble? Because that wino lost two fingers tossing a grenade out of a two-man fighting position during a vicious night fight on Guadalcanal, that's why. Because that stranger that Dad greets like a long lost brother once a year is, in fact, a long lost brother, who shared the exhilaration of the night combat drop on Point Salines. Because the quiet guy you've never seen before extracted your Dad's best friend's body from a helicopter crash in Mogadishu by cutting off his legs - so that no man would be left behind. Because that guy over there negotiated with Aideed to get the legs back.
Because that woman sitting at the table comforted many of your grandfather's friends as they lay dying, the last thing they ever saw, or heard. Then there's *that* woman at the local emporium downtwon who earned a Silver Star attacking outnumbered into a jihadi ambush and her team survived because of her leadership. Because that janitor in your school spent a long night on LZ X-Ray, cut off from his unit, keeping his squadmates alive. Because that Bank President looking at ties over there drove an AMTRAC across the reef at Tarawa under a withering fire so your uncle wouldn't have to slog in on foot, fighting both the sea and the Japanese. That man in Lions with your great-uncle? Your uncle helped him walk out from the Frozen Chosin.
Because that man serving turkey at the shelter helped Uncle Bob deal with Esther's "Dear John" letter, that arrived right before "Big Push." And him, that guy playing with his grandkids, who always seems to have some candy for you... well, he's a "Glow-worm," a fighter pilot who jumped from a burning aircraft after he lost that dogfight with the Bf-109, and spent the rest of the war in a POW camp - and survived the forced marches to the west, as the germans were falling back from the onslaught of the Red Army. His buddy? The wingman whose 'six' was being covered. We are also a maudlin, sentimental group. We honor ALL of our veterans. Especially the ones who didn't really volunteer, but would and did give their lives freely for their brothers in arms, too.
We have the bond of shared experiences, whether it's Basic, Jump School, the JRTC, Graf, Pahakuloa, Camp Red Cloud, Hof, Okinawa, Tay Ninh, Vung Tau, Suwon, Phenix City, El Paso, Biloxi, FOB Speicher, Fallujah, Al Anbar, the convoys across the Atlantic, storming over a beach, busting bunkers, hunkering under artillery, rescuing families caught in the middle, finding that cask of cognac and... and the list goes on and on and on. And your newest veterans - they have their traumas, too. But we learned from our Vietnam brothers, in fact, our Vietnam brothers lead the way, working to make sure they get welcomed home as they should be. And that those among 'em, get taken care of as needs be.
I am proud of my place among you, you men and women who simply did their duty. Who didn't run. Who came when asked. I am among giants. But my thoughts will be with the newest wave of veterans.
by Spc. Nathan Hoskins November 8, 2006
Pvt. Michelle Young, Pvt. Zachary Smith and Spc. Courtney Brenton from 3rd Battalion, 227th Aviation Regiment, 1st Air Cavalry Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, beautify Dining Facility 1 at Camp Buehring, Kuwait. Paintings like this one are found throughout the camp. This photo appeared on www.army.mil.
The Republic is well served. Well served indeed. And as long as we find men and women willing to do the hard, dirty work - there will be a Republic.
As the Marines say, "Semper Fidelis"
Even Google noticed... that's two years in a row. Dogpile always marks the day. Dogs are good at that.
Marking.. 8^ )
** Additional from the Adjutant ** Cleaned up a few links. Also note that the Live search page also commemorates the day properly, with a picture of the Korean War Memorial, and appropriate links.
Thank you for your service to our country.
Scout's Out!
After flying it for weeks, I took it down and proceeded to fold it very carefully. Took three tries. Sgt Russo wouldn't have it any other way.
This morning I got to wake up next to my favorite veteran, and the first words out of my mouth (after good morning) was "Happy Veteran's Day, Sweetheart. I love you." We should all be so lucky.
Airborne, All the Way!
Thank you all for your service.
And John, thank you for being in the very special group of veterans that keeps the message and the mission out there in cyberspace.
I would like to mention my 3 favorite veterans:
1. My dad who was sitting in his tank just south of the Yalu when the Chinese decided to come to the dance.
2. My couson Johny who was awarded a DFC as a CH-47 crew chief during the Tet offensive.
3. My daughter Charlie who just returned this summer from Balad and now has mysterious ailments (please feel free to pray for her).
They always give me hope for our nation. God bless them.
Oh, and I fixed up the links which had been muddled with formatting :-)
Uncle Woody, and my fellow Jarheads: Semper Fi !
Oldloadr -- May God bless and heal her, and aid you in her time of need.
htom
My grandfather, who passed away 7 years ago. Tsgt John H Terry, USA, served in the Pacific theatre of operations when he could have taken a draft deferrment because his father owned a large farm on Long Island.
My mother, who has dealt with 2 sons that have gone into harms way, and who has never said anything other than the words of warning that if we go and do something stupid to get ourselves killed, we are in deep trouble.
Lastly, my brother who is currently serving in Afghanistan with Task Force Orion.
John, I was going to drop a quick email note, and forgot. Nothing major, just a small thank-you post at my place.
What I did want everyone to discover was an excellent music video by 3 Doors Down titled Citizen Soldier. As I said at my place, how many rock bands can quote the Soldier's Creed?
I never grokked how much of a military history my family had until I began tallying up the names to avail myself of The Armorer's kind invitation to list 'em.
Granpa Sam, Army, WWI. My old dad, Tony, MacArthur's Navy. Uncle Jim, Army, WWII. Uncle Gil, Marines, Korea. Uncle Bob, Army, during the Suez crisis. Me, Army, 'Nam. Nephew Eric, Marines, now. Niece Ligia, Army, Gulf 1. BIL John, Army, 'Nam. Much younger BIL Don, Army, prior to Gulf 1. #3 son, Josh, Army, now. #2 son, Lou, Army ROTC, now (does that count? <grin>).
Charlie will be in our prayers.
No excuses.
Those are *reasons*...
Armorer, THANK YOU!
Grumpy
In May, I will celebrate the day for my six uncles who have all gone ahead, and my mother's father, a wild Irish-American marine that survived Argonne Forest and died in bed dozens of years later. I will toast my father-in-law and his brothers, and his Mississippi ancedents that fought in wars going back to the Civil War (where half fought for the south- where you had to bring your own gun and uniform, and the other half joined the other side in New Orleans- where they were given a gun and a uniform.)