Growing up, I thought I had the oldest parents on the planet. You see, I was very much a surprise baby. My siblings were born in 1947 and 1949; I was born in 1963--get the picture now? At first, the doctors told my mom she has a tumor (in Arnold's famous words "I don't have a too-mor"LOL) Then later, they discovered the "tumor" had a heartbeat. Some people still think I'm a tumor, but thats a different story for another day.
Most parents I knew, if they had served in war, it was Korea or even Vietnam. My dad was a veteran of World War II, the Greatest Generation. He fought in the Battle of the Bulge and all across Germany and parts of France.
I learned most of this from finding old clippings in a drawer in the hallway of our house. Dad, like most veterans I know who actually saw action, spoke very little and very rarely about his war experiences. How those men saw what they did and came back home to live normal lives still amazes me.
Not long before Dad died, my wife and I were at my parents's house, watching "NightLine" This was during the time of the "ethnic cleansing" in Bosnia. I could tell the report was disturbing my dad. In a few minutes, he began to talk to us about atrocities he had seen during his time in war.
I remember him saying, "You wouldn't believe the things I saw done to women and children" He did NOT elaborate.
My dad was a house painter with his father when he got drafted from his hometown, Amelia VA.
He and millions of other ordinary men put down their work and their lives to fight the most evil empire in the history of the world, and they won. He did tell me of sleeping on the snow at night; drinking water from mudholes when there was no other water to drink, and seeing his buddies killed right beside him. He got some medals for sharp-shooting, and he got a Purple Heart for being injured by shrapnel while fighting in Germany.
My dad kept his medals tucked away in the old drawer in the hall, too. One year, while I was home for Thanksgiving, I snuck them out of the house and took them to a frame shop where I had them put in a shadow box display. On Christmas Day, we gave them to Dad so he could hang them on the wall. There was not a dry eye in the house. I was happy to salute "my hero, a real Jedi Knight" I still miss him-if I can be half the man he was, I will have done well. My parents may have been the Oldest ones around, but I was lucky to have them.
Have a blessed day!
Have a great day!
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My parents were older, too, when I was born, and my dad is also a veteran of WWII. He served on a tanker ship and as he has gotten older, he's told more stories, especially to my husband, about what he saw in the War. My mom had my dad's medals framed one year, too, and they still sit proudly on the bookshelf. Thanks for sharing about your dad. :D I know you miss him and your mom.
ReplyDeleteOver from ChesapeakeBayWoman's blog to say hi, nice to meet you .. and that's a lovely tribute to your folks/Dad ...
ReplyDeleteGreat blog, NativeDevil. My grandfather served as a medic over there, and though we were close, he never talked his time during the war. After he passed away I discovered box of love letters that he and my grandmother had exchanged... they tell me so much about the two of them, and I just cry big alligator tears when I read them.
ReplyDeleteExcellent post! I truly enjoyed reading that; it was very moving.
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