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Civility ~ Let us consider this, before we speak or act.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Veterans Day evokes different feelings for all.

I have always been a fan of the military.  I was raised understanding that my Great Grandfather Thomas Colladay served in both World Wars and raised in rank to a Major General.  He was over seas in France for a lengthy time leaving behind his wife and two boys.  One of those boys was my grandpa Jack.  My G. Grandfather wrote letters to my Great Grandmother which my dad has now and they are so very interesting to read.  You can imagine the time it would take for mail to travel back to America. It must have been hard on my G. Grandmother. I knew he was a great man.  I have heard stories over the years from people who knew my Great Grandfather and what they always say is how humble he was, how kind, caring, truly genuine.  He cared so much for the men and boys who served under him.  He thought of them as family.  I can't imagine what he must have seen while in WWII. 

I was also raised to understand why my Great Aunt Eileen, was always so sad. As a child we would travel to see her. Her home had dark drapes that were always pulled hard across the windows.  Her home was somber, lonely and dark.  She lived alone.  Out back was a tall old tree that hung in a way as though it were weeping over the house in honor or in sympathy for my dear Great Aunt.  She sat behind a little table doing puzzles, or playing solitaire.  She seemed so happy to see us when we would arrive. She would hug my dad, her nephew, who she had thought of as a son and she'd call him Tommy. Which, when you hear someone call your dad Tommy, at that moment you are back in his childhood with him.

From the day I was old enough to understand my Great Aunt's sadness, I have lost tears over it myself at times.  We are all impacted by our own family tragedy's, you have some, I have some.  Here is my Great Aunt's story.  My G. Aunt was married to a man named Jack Holdsworth.  He was a handsome man who was drafted.  He did not want to go.  He was not the kind of man to carry a gun or take people's lives away from them and he wished not to go.  He asked if he could do anything but work with guns, or carry a weapon.  That was not to be the case.  He entered the beach in Normandy France within those first days.  Jack was the man, behind the man, shooting the weapon. Jack was feeding bullets into the weapon.  He died there in Normandy after being there only a few days.  His worst nightmare came to be a reality.  My G. Aunt received the news, devastated she wanted him sent home where she could honor him and visit him in a cemetery near her.  However, my G. Uncles parent's thought he should be buried where he fell.  She never saw him again.  She never would have made that long trip to France to see where he was put to rest.  The love of her life left, and never returned and this is why she sat in a dark house for the majority of her life. 

My dad has visited his Uncle Jack twice in France.  My dad was very close with his Aunt and Uncle.  Jack's death was terrible for him as well.  In fact, my dad spent more time with my G. Aunt because of Jack's loss of life. 
I remember when my dad said he would be going to Normandy France to see Jack's resting place.  My heart kind of fell.  I knew that would be an emotional visit and I hurt for my dad.  When he told me that an office there on the military grounds, grounds owned now by America, had a man who would literally drive him right to the white cross amongst thousands of pure white crosses I was surprised.  But what struck me hardest was when he explained to me that the man took a small bucket of wet sand and crouched down with a deep handful of that wet sand and rubbed it hard against the stone and there, just like magic, was Jack.  Jack Holdsworth.  My dad had come a long way to visit him that day, and Jack had gone a long way from home and died for his country never to return.  It must have been heart wrenching for my dad.  I really couldn't imagine it until I watched the first half hour of the well known movie, Saving Private Ryan.  I didn't make it past the first half hour of that movie because my dad had said how similar it would have been for my G. Uncle Jack.  It was too much bare.

Now today, I am married to Chad, a military man, a veteran.  I'm so proud and honored to be married to him.  He has told me so many stories both good and bad.  The bad stories make me sad for him and make me wonder how any military man or woman stands it.  The good stories make me laugh and make me happy for him.  The friendships he made have been life long in some cases. Those who haven't carried over through the years, stay with him in his memories and they are inspirational for him and for me. 

Chad has told me about the Gulf War and some of the very scary things that he went through.  To him they don't seem scary, it was work as usual. It was what a military person does.  To me,...scary.  Most of us can't imagine what it would be like to survive on a desert for months with hot, hot temperatures all day and what felt like cold temperatures at night.  A shortage of food would occur for long periods of time.  Chad worked relatively close to the front lines because Chad and the men in his engineer company were developing the actual road our military tanks and trucks and men would travel into war.  Chad and the men in his engineering company even layed out the run-ways for military jets to land and take off from. This all while air strikes where happening out in front of them seems nothing short of heroic.  Often warning alarms would sound indicating chemical warfare in use from the enemy was high.  Chad would put on a chemical protective suit and mask, in 100 or higher heat temperatures, enter into bunkers built down in the desert sand and wait, sometimes for hours.  The body temperature for some was too much, men would pass out, suffer from claustrophobia, have panic attacks.  When I see all his medals, his letters of accomodation, his success in the military, I am so proud and so impressed with his accomplishments during his time of service. 

Veterans Day for many is sad.  It is a day for some to be proud and find memories that make them smile.  For everyone it is different. For all, it is a day of honoring those from the past, those in the present, all hero's  most certainly!.

Happy Veteran's Day!

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