When I was little, I remember pictures of all of my mom’s brothers and my cousin hanging up near my maternal grandmother’s telephone. They were all wearing uniforms. I had no idea of the importance of these photos.
Like three of my uncles, my dad served in the military during WWII. Unlike my uncles, he was in the Navy not the Army or the Army Air Corp.
Dad
I am fairly certain he said he was very sick from just crossing the English Channel during a storm when this picture was taken. It doesn’t really look much like him.
When I was in my late twenties, one of his childhood friends would relay a story of how my dad’s ship was basically ripped in two and that they barely made it back from France.
His friend was very surprised I had never heard the story. I wasn’t. My dad did not talk much about the war nor himself that much. My uncles were the same way.
My dad was not there to hear his friend’s story, so I asked him about it as soon as I saw him the next time. He said that the boat was not in half…it just had a hole in it and they took on some water. . .
One of my uncle’s was the same age as my dad. He was in the Army. He served under Patton. He did tell of his hair being frozen to the ground after he slept while marching through Italy. My mom always told of how he almost had his foot shot off as well.
Today, I have family and friends retired from and currently serving in the military. Some of them have spent half of the last decade being deployed.
One of my family members nearest and dearest to my heart is my stepson. He is in the Air Force.
To him and all the others serving or have served, I sincerely thank you.
