Years pass, but Heroism won't Fade

I've got something very apolitical to get off my chest (already veering off topic, he adds) concerning Sonia Sotomajor. For very strong reasons, I oppose her appointment, but it has nothing to do with politics or judicial record, and obviously nothing to do with gender and ethnicity.
 
After some shuteye, I'll disgorge myself of it.

Every once in a while a screwed up operation -- way too big to run as planned -- succeeds simply because so many folks involved refused to let it fail... D-Day is a great example.  There's an awfully large amount of human history where 'leaders' take credit, but the unsung and unwashed did the dirty work.... Here's hats off to them... 

And lest we forget, the Eastern Front was 10 times tougher on the Russian soldiers than the Western Front was on Americans, Brits, Canadians, Aussies, etc.  Hats off to the Russian troops who died in the millions on the other side of Europe.....  Those who study military history come away from reading about the Eastern Front shaken, hurt, immensely impressed, and astounded by what happened 'over there'..... Perhaps some day humans will forget about their 'leaders', 'ideologies', and so on long enough to feel kinship with folks far away going through trials we have never (and hopefully never will) suffer.

Those who have served in the military understand that often it's easier to relate to and feel sympathy for 'the enemy' (with whom one has so much in common) than with those who order men into combat while refusing to serve (or let their children serve).   There's a reason people leaving the military are loathe to discuss their experiences with 'civilians'....  Civilians often hate the enemy and love their leaders.... guys in the service often respect their enemy and resent (and even hate) their leaders.....   
  

Finally, let's go back to World War I... here are a lot of songs you've never heard that sum up a lot of what I'm trying (inadequately) to say...... http://www.firstworldwar.com/audio/index.htm

Karma, I'm waiting to hear what you have to say. 

do we not here in america, just sugar coat the hell out of what they (all) died for.  we use pretty little words like..what happened...trials......those sure are pleasant.  i bet any who were gassed, raped, shot and starved to death, and yes tortured, for having a difference in births, would have taken a little shot of salty water up their noses, from normandy beach, than have died in such horrific manners for just being born. 
 
words, nor should they, lack enough gratitude for those that gave their lives to stop the gassing, raping, shooting and starving of so many there and still so many everywhere.
 
thank a veteran, soldier, or family member of those that served and still serve. do something symbolic..light a candle, raise a flag, smile up to wherever they all may be and thank god, whomever god is or is not to you, that your free to express yourself in any manner you choose.   
 
gratitude, grace and forgiveness on all accounts.

Eight days short of four months old on June 6, 1944, my memory of it is unreliable. Here is what I do recall:

Growing up, almost all household conversation revolved around The War. Everywhere you looked, for years, there was evidence of service or loss.

Young men in khakis and tee shirts with a pack of Luckies rolled into the sleeve having probably, little else to wear as a result of returning home fitter, firmer and with less circumference.

They were recognizable as well by their tattoos: "Army"; "Navy" and that sad little  tribute to the power of loneliness, peer pressure and alcohol: "Mom."

Our mother had five brothers who served. All returned safely. Two remain today.

Yesterday, in the chiropractor's waiting room, I watched as one of them, no longer a boy but easy to imagine having been one, sat in pain.

When his name, Douglas, was called, he managed with great effort, to rise but stood unsteadily, unable to move. I don't know how he'd got himself into the place.

But, I did know something: If he placed one hand on the back of each of  my shoulders, first; he wouldn't fall over and second; we could baby-step our way to the treatment room. Sixty-eight feet that seemed like a mile.

His grip was a lot firmer with one hand than the other and the assistant guiding us was smart enough to realize that he wasn't in any condition to cool his heels waiting.

She went ahead, hustled the DC in just ahead of us so that the old fellow could go directly to the tilted magic table that would take him, face-down off his feet with no effort.

Just as I turned to leave, he managed a smile and a little half-salute that ought to have made me feel a lot better than it did: All I could think of was all of the opportunities to help, over the years, that I either hadn't recognized or worse, had and had done nothing.

Maybe it is recognition that there might not be any more chances that changes everything.

thank you,Stoney. Well said.

Just  finished  watching  live  coverage  from  Normandy,  France.    Beautiful  afternoon  in  Europe,  the  ceremony  commemorating  D-Day  always  puts  tears  in  my  eyes.   So  much  for  the  myth  that  somehow  managing  to  survive  a  few  rough  scrapes  made  me  into  some  sort  of  a  tough  guy.    President  Obama  is  so  very  good  on  his  feet,    the  most  cynical  of  his  audience's  critics  were  brought  to  silence  by  the  eloquence  of  his  thoughtful  words.   Food  for  thought  on  what  otherwise  would  be  a  sleepy  Saturday  morning.

Never served but always wanted to be in the Navy. Almost 30 now, too old to go active, too busy to go reserve. Both grandfathers were in WW2, but neither saw combat. Uncles were in WW2 & Korea, I think some family was in Viet Nam. One grandfather's father was in the Austria-Hungary War. But I digress-the sacrafices that were made on that day 65 years ago, are too great for anyone who wasn't there to comprehend, let alone those of us who weren't even born yet. All the men (and women) who have served deserve our very best respect and gratitude for doing so.                                                                                                      Sometimes I think we need to reinstate the draft because it would be harder to go war if everyone knew what it was like to serve. 

You're a good man for sharing that Stoney. We should all beware of the opportunities to experience the privilege of being of service to our fellow beings in any way that we can. 

We have all benefited from the unfathomable sacrifice and service of those thousands upon thousands; who for the sake of their flag and the hope it represented, suffered either violent deaths or a lifetime of physical and emotional horrors that could only be understood by those who were there.

I will try to use today as a day of remembrance, gratitude and perspective...

I will try to not have any complaints about any aches and pains,....... the price of healthcare, gasoline, organic foods and tickets to a ball game, .......cell phone service, road construction, traffic jams, weather,........none of that stuff 'cos it just doesn't matter in the context of things. I will try to be grateful that these are the biggest problems I have to deal with. Problems, that when compared to having experienced a single minute of the horrors of that day sixty-five years ago..... quickly fade away.

I hope these good intentions carry over to tomorrow, to the day after and the days after that........and are translated into meaningful action.

Peace out to all of you.

We didn't rent the movie "Taking Chance" with any thought of D Day in mind, but, I can't think of any better way of showing respect for those who died in service to our country than watching the movie "Taking Chance". The movie -- a short one 77 minutes -- shows in detail the path that a soldier's body takes as it is moved from the battlefield (Iraq in this case) to its home for burial. Kevin Bacon is the main star and gives a great and touching performance.

If I had known that the movie covered this morbid subject I would not have rented it but now that we've watched it we are very glad that we did. It showed the total respect that is given to a dead soldier on its sad trip home.

You WILL be touched by this movie.

Stoney - Thank you so much for your story...especially that last line...

I've been doing a lot of WWII research lately, mostly in the combat operation records of the 445th BG based in England, and I've found so many incredible stories of heroism and sacrifice, courage and compassion, and hope and despair. I wish I could relate them all to you...from the severely damaged B-24 flying back to England, barely skimming over the trees of the French countryside, while the local people were cheering them on and pointing the way for the plane to fly back to England...to assembling a group of bombers in the air for a mission by taking off 45 seconds apart, in zero visibility, observing strict radio silence - then seeing a very bright flash of light and knowing that two of your own had collided in mid-air...to actual combat missions and situations...

What I finally decided to share is a bit about a Christmas Party. I'm transcribing the following to preserve its integrity...

"At a Christmas Party recently given by the officers and men of this B-24 Liberator Station for the entertainment of English children, men donated candy, toys and their spare time in various ways, to make the party a success in every detail. Among the contributions was a vivid description of the entire affair transposed into verse....during spare time between missions...

The Night Before Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas

And up in the sky, was the sound of a B-24 drawing nigh

From out of their windows the people did stare

To see Father Christmas arriving by air.

Now before you could even say "Robinson-Jack"

He landed his plane on the perimeter track.

The children, excited, all crowded about

And shouted for joy when they saw him climb out.

From the near village schools did the children arrive,

And the C.O. had called on services five.

The Red Cross, the Chaplains, and each G.I. Joe,

Special Services, with band, and then P.R.O.

Some men gathered holly, and some brought in toys

For the spirit of helping gave joy to the boys.

And all joined together in one happy throng

To celebrate Christmas, throughout the day long

And joy reigned supreme, on each child's face so bright

We sure missed them all, when we bid them good-night.

Thank God in his mercy, though war rages wild

We see happiness glow, in the face of a child."

As leaders wage their wars, and men and women fight and die, the children are the ones, I believe, who suffer the most...

...and the children are our future...

Stoney: Thank you so much for that.  The last line ought to be in Bartlett's.

I always cry when I hear "Taps"...
 
"Go to sleep, peaceful sleep,
May the soldier or sailor,
God keep.
On the land or the deep,
Safe in sleep."
 
Thank you to all who answered the call to serve, past and present, and those who hit the beaches at Normandy...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfHnzYEHAow
 

...and the world will be better for this...to reach the unreachable star...the impossible dream...
Perhaps someday it won't be impossible - there is always hope - and our children or their children or their children, etc... to make the dream come true.
Thank you, cuukoo1.

Swami,

Re: your provocative teaser of earlier- much earlier- you have had by my reckoning, around eighteen hours of blinkies. Don't make us send men around with cudgels.

I am still frightened by D-Day.  The thought is just . . . too much. 

.....and here's to he memory of my father-in-law.......a German immigrant who fought for the USA...and actually begged to enlist.  He aided our country by teaching his native German language to our soldiers, and was rewarded by enemy fire on Normandy Beach.   This brave man chose to wear a leg brace for the rest of his life rather than have miliary surgeons operate on his leg and spine......risking paralysis.  He was a pleasant man....proud of his service.....proud of his country.  America.