Monday is the day we remember those who have fallen. A tradition for me is to read the letters (victory-grams) from my Uncle who was a BAR infantryman that was MIA D+3 at Normandy.
My grandparents were immigrants and all their sons served. I look at the names of those who have died in these senseless Cheney wars and I get really stabby when I hear anti-immigrant comments these days.
On Veteran’s Day we will celebrate (with my better 2/3 making me dinner) those who came back:
- My other Uncle, a waist turret gunner on B-17’s
-My Dad, in Korea, something to do with a flamethrower and tunnels he never talked about to the day he died. He simply said “I did some bad things.”
-My Godfather, that guarded the Tomb of the unknowns.
-My Father in Law, who spent a career flying SAC NEACP mission.
-my Brother in Law, who spent a career in submarines during the cold war.
-me, who spent 10 years on submarines during the cold war.
What is it about this country that compels people to come here (legally or illegally) then their sons and daughters are willing to die for it?
Must be something pretty special.
As an old fart these days I will continue to walk through airports and buy the rounds for anyone wearing the uniform. I may hate today’s mission, but I honor those that serve.