Today is my day. Today is SWWBO'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.
And even though last year it was the Auld Soldier's day... today is the first since 1947 that it *isn't* his day.
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. As is it with his son.
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 too,
Today, instead of riding with a Vickers in the back of a truck, I will drive the Castle Technical in the oldest and largest Veteran's Day parade west of the Mississippi. Which, given Leavenworth is a town of only about 30K people, and we have the largest parade, in some ways doesn't say much for our observances west of the Mississippi.... But before I do that, I'll be working a pancake feed where disabled vets eat free.
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 downtown 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"
And even though last year it was the Auld Soldier's day... today is the first since 1947 that it *isn't* his day.
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. As is it with his son.
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 too,
Today, instead of riding with a Vickers in the back of a truck, I will drive the Castle Technical in the oldest and largest Veteran's Day parade west of the Mississippi. Which, given Leavenworth is a town of only about 30K people, and we have the largest parade, in some ways doesn't say much for our observances west of the Mississippi.... But before I do that, I'll be working a pancake feed where disabled vets eat free.
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 downtown 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"
My favorite vets:
1. My dad, who was at the Yalu when the Chinese came to the dance.
2. My cousin Johny, who was a crew chief on CH-47s during Tet.
3. My daughter, Charlie, who has had medical problems since returning from Balad over 18 months ago.
Thank you John for your milblog and the opportunity for us vets to revel in the things we revel in that most of the rest don't understand.
Happy Veteran's Day to all who have served, and a special thank you to the spouses of those who have served. Without the spouse's support, the soldier's wouldn't be able to do what they do... and what they do is too important to forget about their personal support system.
The home of the free..... because of the brave!
My favorite living vets have to be my parents, both of whom served in WW2; Dad in the Army, then in the Army Air Force, while Mom served in the Navy. Got a pile of other family who served, and serve today, and want to serve tomorrow. To all those who gave me my freedoms, to those who served with me (USMC 1968-69), to those who serve today --- thank you. Semper Fi!
91B20, 91C B MED
Here is to the 55,000 KIA in the Nam, and to the 2 remaining POW/MIA from the Golden Brigade.
I will always wonder why I am here and you are not.
My two favorite vets?
My husband (24 years USMC and still serving) and my son (4.5 years USMCR and deployed right now to Afghanistan).
Thank you, John. You're on the list too, ya know...
Also, his brother Tommy, who enlisted in the Marines and went on to become Deputy Chief of Police for my hometown.
I had the distinct honor of working with members of the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps during my 8 1/2 years in the Air Force. God bless and keep each and every one of them.
CMSGT Raymond C. Dedrick, USAF ret. (served 1951-1981)
Thanks, Dad....
SFC Earl C. Fox, USA 2ID Korea 1950-1951
And for all the other fathers who never got to see their sons.....
we love you all, god bless.
Mom - USAF - 1952-1955 and yeah, I'll stand up too - USN 1973-1979, NJ and AZ National Guard off & on since then, currently at foggy Ft Sill getting ready to play another round.
Jerry Leavitt - favorite uncle, USAF radar tech, Japan 1951-1953.
Keith Leavitt - favorite uncle, US Army infantry, Viet Nam 1967-1968.
The Leavitts are a large family and Keith was just barely older then my oldest brother.
Myself - US Army tanker, Ft. Lewis 9th ID 1974-1976 and Kitzingen (spl) FRG 3rd ID 1976-1978.
My most favorite vets are my maternal grandfather who I've never known for his was killed in 1944 and the late Chuck Gibson, USMC Korea and Vietnam.
The rest of you all are my "just" favorite ones :o)
First up, my favorite, and my husband: Keith
Next:
My AFBrother and AFFather, Bill and Tom.
My WAC Grandmother, and Army Medic Grandfather, Edith and Carl.
My Army CWO cousin, Tori, currently in Afghanistan.
My Army NCO cousin, Jim, a single-digit-midget in Iraq.
My Twin, BillT, currently in Iraq.
On Keith's behalf, I'll add his AFDaughter, Kati, and her currently-deployed AFHusband, Travis.
There are so many uncles that have served, I don't even know if I could name them all.
And, of course, my favorite milbloggers: John, Dusty, Beth, Sean, B5, SoLow, CJ, CBTFW, Free, Army Girl, Troy, Lex, and others I'm sure I'm forgetting.
But Thank You to all!
Myself, US Army 1966-1990
My adopted grandfather, USA, 503 PI, Normandy, Market Garden, Bastogne, Wessel et al. Who still detests snow.
And if he lived near me, I'd clear his sidewalks and driveway, no questions asked.
Everett - US Army - Korea - Grandfather
Donald (Bud) - US Army - Vietnam - Grandfather
Guy - USAF - Great-Uncle
Also, if any of you could keep Uncle Guy in your prayers, I'd appreciate it. He was recently diagnosed with stage 3 cancer in two places.
Thank you, your wife, the blog writers and veteran readers, (and their families and supporters. God bless you all. I am proud to have you at my back, and in the virtual foxholes of this dangerous world.
Airborne, All the Way!
2LT Alan Briley, RN
Virginia Defense Force
Former Paratrooper, Sniper, Grunt ..., ALL AMERICAN TROOPER 82nd Airborne Division, USA
Drill Sergeant, 80th Division, USAR
Just Desert storm here (Army), I feel humbled.
John of this site, I live in the same state, we'd be fighting for the honor of shoveling/plowing the sidewalk and drive.
Grandfather - RAdm W.L. Benson, USN - WW2, Korea (USS OKLAHOMA, Destroyers) R.I.P.
Uncle Bill - MAJ W. L. Benson Jr, USA - Korea, Vietnam (Airborne Infantry)
Dad - CAPT P.S. Benson, USN - Vietnam, Cold War (Sudmarines, U.S. Navy Diving Officer)
Best Bud - SSGT T. Molino, USMC - Desert Shield/Desert Storm (USMC Rotary Wing) R.I.P.
Teammate - SGT M.B. O'Boyle, USA/WAARNG - Cold War, OIF (Mechanized Infantry)
Teammates - B Co 1-161 IN 81 HBCT WAARNG - OIF (All of them)
And the newest additon:
SSG R. MacLellan, USAAF - WW2 (B17 Waist Gunner) R.I.P.
And that's the short list...
Semper Fi, one and all.
My brother served one tour in the Air Force, but never got near enough to the planes he loved to tempt him to stay in.
I did get close to the planes and spent nine years in the Air Force Reserve as an Aerial Reconnaissance Weather Officer in the Storm Trackers (now using the name of the defunct active duty unit, the Hurricane Hunters). I was able to overcome my fear of water because they told me we would never survive the ditching if we went down... It never came to that (only one AF hurricane hunter was ever lost). Still, our crews were like families, and I had the best.
My mother's father, Charles Gordon, was a red-headed Irishman, a WWI marine who survived gassing.
I have a young friend who is like a son to us, Rick Hawkins, a Navy corpsman. We have watched him grow from an eager kid to a strong, responsible adult who loves his career and has his own family.
My favorite veterans are all the ones I knew growing up as a brat. They were the parents of my friends, and some, like Andy Guillory, would have taken the place of my parents if the need had arisen. They were the grandparents I picked for myself, like Col. Rachel Douglas, who loved me as if I were her own. They were the parents of the kids I babysat, like Col. Bert Brennan, the fighter pilot next door that never came back from Vietnam. No body, no closure. Just his name on a wall. Even my college sweetheart, Topper Rush, who wasn't much as a fiancee, but turned out to be a great soldier and Ranger.
They are the cadets of Texas A&M that marched out to war and to life. Some that I knew then, I still work with now, like Carven Scott, one of the highest ranking meteorologists in the US Navy Reserve.
They are the young heroes I read about in blogs and newspaper articles, the best men and women of their generation. I would be proud to know any of them, and through the written words of those that know them, I feel that I do, too. They are now the children of my friends and family. Carven's son in the Marines. Some may even be the grandchildren of my friends.
I pray for them all, and I honor the debt we have all paid, the contribution we have each made, however small or large or final, to the price of liberty.
Father SSgt Army Air Corp Michael E. 1942 - 1945
SSgt Michael "Doc" Bird USA 25 Infantry Div, Hawaii, 2 tours Iraq, 2nd Brigade Medic. New assignment West Point and close to home.
Brother Edward R. ANG, New York, 1965-1969 He delivered the mail during the mail strike and learned to play volley ball on telephone poles at Ft Gordan.