Posted on 06/01/2019 6:55:03 AM PDT by Oscar in Batangas
Heroes STILL walk among us...just a little slower, and there aren't many of them anymore.
God bless the greatest generation
Thank you for that wonderful story! My husband and I recognize every veteran we see, who we realize is a vet. They often wear a ball cap, or some indication of their service, usually Vietnam, but there are still some WWII vets we run across. We are honored to be able to thank them for their service. It means so much to them, especially the Vietnam vets, after what they went through when they got home. One fellow, a Vietnam vet, came to our table, after the waitress told him we had bought his lunch. (She wasn’t supposed to tell him). Tears streamed down his cheeks, as we thanked him for his service, and he told us how much our gesture meant to him. I’m not telling this to receive a pat on the back, but to spur others on to reach out to them. I know many of you do. The blessing we get from doing this is indescribable. God bless each and every one of you, who are vets! Without your service, in combat or out, the life of every American, and many foreigners,would be diminished.
I bet he drove a Ford truck.
Great story Guy...a wonderful one.
My father-in-law, may be rest in peace, joined the army as a cook, before WWII, right out of CCC camp, because jobs were scarce, and as a full blood Loyal Shawnee, in Oklahoma, they were even more scarce. (Folks in Oklahoma weren’t quite so proud of their Indians, as they claim to be, now.) When the war started, he was transferred to the infantry, on the European field of battle. My husband grew up wheedling recollections about the war from his dad, who rarely spoke of it, otherwise. He is immensely proud of his father’s service. These men who came back, were forever changed by their experiences. They were tough, and had an outlook on life of perseverance, no matter what the circumstance. After what they had been through, no one could push them around, and just like in the war, they did what had to be done, to get the job done. I’m sorry that most of them are no longer with us. What they did for us, cannot be measured.
The one complaint I have received about the essay is, “How about the Marine Corps?” I will say that of 19,000 Marines that landed on Guadalcanal, 8,500 as least once ended up in medical facilities with diseases, infections, and/or infestations of plants and bugs eating their flesh.
thank you.
It’s always been interesting to me how different the 1st and 29th Divisions were. Yet they there they were together on Omaha on D-Day.
I think that the Marines are doing just fine telling their story.
I would agree with you. My son is a former Marine though, and my active duty as amphibious Navy officer seldom involved more than two months without operating with Marines. Marines do tend to be a bit aggressive about telling their story, so I still feel some guilt.
I recently learned of two Keith Richardsons (Both from SE rural Nebraska) who died in the Pacific theater just months apart. Keith #1, Sgt, USA, in the campaign to retake Palau, Keith #2 Cpl, USMC on Okinawa.
Keith #2 was awarded the Navy Cross for grabbing a machine gun, charging some Japanese stronghold, turning the tide of that part of the battle and saving the rest of his fellow Marines’ lives. As it turns out, he is a 2nd or 3rd cousin (never could figure how to count cousin-ness with all the ‘removed’ stuff).
My Uncle Mike was also on Okinawa, got seriously wounded but lived a complete life, with shrapnel still in his body, to a ripe old age. They were a couple of years apart in age and likely went to the same high school. They wound up on the same battlefield on the other side of the world. I often wonder if Keith’s sacrifice helped spare Uncle Mike’s life.
Reading Keith #2’s Navy Cross citation fills me with an awesome pride for having such a warrior for a cousin. I can only assume that the Marines had used up their allotment of Medals of Honor the day Keith died, because his gallantry filled in all the check marks for that recognition in my opinion.
Thanks again great stories as we’re coming up to “D” Day 1944 June 6. My Uncle was a First Marine Raider and never said a word.
Thank you.
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