Veterans Day Thoughts
I grew up three miles from the main gate of a U.S. Air Force SAC base-- during the Cold War.
My backyard was almost directly under the flight path of B-52s and F-106 fighter jets. I was so used to them taking off and landing at all hours-- day and night-- I hardly noticed when it happend.
The jets and big planes would scramble in minutes-- often, I was told, to ward off approaching Soviet jets testing our readiness. I'm not sure if that was true, but as a 10-year old kid I belived it. I still do.
For those unfamiliar with military jargon, SAC stands for Strategic Air Command. It was a big time base-- and employed thousands of people-- military and civilian. Living just a few miles from its well secured perimeter, I figured I was one of the safest kids in America (how many families had B-52's guarding their backyard?) or one of the most vulnerable (surely Russia had my house targeted).
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My father AND mother both served in the U.S. Navy. They met in Annapolis, and while both were technically veterans, my dad never served close to a real military battle. While Korea was flaring-up, he was stationed in Morocco as a Hospital Corps Medic at a Naval radio base. The French controlled Morocco at the time and nationalist efforts were pushing for independence. My dad told stories of being caught in the cross-fire of occassional protests, sometimes with real shooting, but it was nothing like the mayhem that was going on in Asia. Still, a bullet is a bullet.
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My father-in-law served in the Navy during World War II. He also was a Medic, and was with Marine and Army troops during the invasion of southern Europe. He hit the beach somewhere in Italy, saw fierce fighting, and somehow made it out alive. His reward? He was shipped to the Pacific and was likely going to take part in the invasion of Japan. It never happened. Japan surrendered after atomic bombs obliterated the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. My father-in-law came home. But he never talked about the war much.
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I'm part of a generation lost in a gap of service to our country. I was too young for Vietnam and too old for Desert Storm. Growing-up, I had aspirations to join the Navy. Surprisingly, my parents, both Navy people, discouraged me from doing so as an enlistee. Having experienced military life in that realm, they wanted better for me-- an officer's commission. By the time I finished college, my military ambitions faded. It was a different time, I guess.
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Each generation seems to have a sports figure that represents their service to our country. Ted Williams is the most popular example-- a guy who gave-up some of the best years of his professional baseball career to serve as a Marine pilot-- although truth be told, Ted wasn't exactly gung-ho with the whole idea. He was a flight instructor in WWII; flew combat missions in Korea-- and was shot-down once.
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I got to interview former Pittsburgh Steelers running back Rocky Blier a few years ago. He helped the Steelers win four Super Bowls-- AFTER being badly wounded by a grenade explosion in Vietnam. Blier was told he'd never play football again. He did and he has four rings to prove it. He also has a Purple Heart and Bronze Star for his service to our country.
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Veterans Day isn't a day to mourn our war dead, it's a day to honor those who are serving (and have served) our nation in the military during times of war. To all of them-- Thank You.
