There is something incredibly sobering about those in our families who faced almost certain death as they hit the beaches of Normandy. My Uncle Vernon did. He made it all the way back home, only to die from burns suffered in an accident on base in the U.S.
When I graduated from high school, the gift from my parents, both of whom served at Fort Bragg, where I came into this world, was to fly back to Washington D. C. Relatives took me to Arlington National Cemetery where I had the honor of visiting my Uncles graveside.
It was while watching the ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that "Known but to God" would ingrave itself into my soul for the rest of my life.
My great Uncle Sam was a fighter pilot, shot down over the jungles of what country I cannot remember. The natives found him, packed him in mud because his back was broken, and carried him out of the jungle to safety.
When I met him on that same trip, he was old and bent over from his injury.
We make heros out of anyone who does the least act of civility. Long forgotten are those who endured more than we can imagine and received no adulation.
Imperfection is inherent to the human condition. America the beautiful, the bad, the ugly, the true, the false and the good. Just like you and I. I have a saying - “Who you are at your best is who you really are for that is who God intends you to be.”
Nicely written-good post about your family and their service to this definitely imperfect, but beautiful Country. My Dad served in WW2 in the Merchant Marines and was in the convoys traversing the North Atlantic.
There is something incredibly sobering about those in our families who faced almost certain death as they hit the beaches of Normandy. My Uncle Vernon did. He made it all the way back home, only to die from burns suffered in an accident on base in the U.S.
When I graduated from high school, the gift from my parents, both of whom served at Fort Bragg, where I came into this world, was to fly back to Washington D. C. Relatives took me to Arlington National Cemetery where I had the honor of visiting my Uncles graveside.
It was while watching the ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that "Known but to God" would ingrave itself into my soul for the rest of my life.
My great Uncle Sam was a fighter pilot, shot down over the jungles of what country I cannot remember. The natives found him, packed him in mud because his back was broken, and carried him out of the jungle to safety.
When I met him on that same trip, he was old and bent over from his injury.
We make heros out of anyone who does the least act of civility. Long forgotten are those who endured more than we can imagine and received no adulation.
Imperfection is inherent to the human condition. America the beautiful, the bad, the ugly, the true, the false and the good. Just like you and I. I have a saying - “Who you are at your best is who you really are for that is who God intends you to be.”
Nicely written-good post about your family and their service to this definitely imperfect, but beautiful Country. My Dad served in WW2 in the Merchant Marines and was in the convoys traversing the North Atlantic.
Have a good Fourth....