A few weeks ago I happened upon a box of old photographs. I was looking for a specific photo of my mother and me when I came across this treasure trove. The photos belonged to my grandmother's sister and came to me when she passed on. My aunt, and her husband, were childless and I was her godchild.
The photos were old, taken a very long time ago and long before I was born. They were photos taken during the time my uncle served in the Air Force during WWII. Serving in the military was not uncommon among the males in my family. My dad served in the Navy, his brothers in the Marines and the Air Force. Lots of my friends had fathers and uncles who served as well. What was uncommon was talking about their service. Other than the occasional humor filled story about a "buddy", these men didn't discuss their service much. I never even knew my uncle spent any time in the Pacific during WWII until I saw the photographs. In fact neither my father nor his brothers discussed this time in their lives.
My Uncle Mickey was a quiet, gentle man. The only job I ever knew him to have was one in the library of a college in our town. He was sweet, a good cook and especially liked to bake. He tended a vegetable garden each year and was manic over doing crossword puzzles. He was dependable and full of good advice. He and my aunt lived a quiet, happy life together.
These photos made me wonder about him, wonder about the time he spent so far from home. It was obvious from their content that he saw action. The photos were of barracks and planes and of young men making the best of the situation. Fresh faces that did not reveal the turmoil surrounding their world. Fresh faces serving their country in a way that most of us will never understand. I am proud of my Uncle Mickey. Proud of what he did as service to his country, proud and grateful for his sacrifice. I wish he had talked about it to me, wish I knew something of what he experienced. I wish I could tell him what I feel about his service, tell him that I am grateful that he and all of those other young men in the photos had the courage to serve their country.
One of the photos in that box was of the First Marine Division Cemetery in Okinawa, Japan. Neat white crosses lined up tell the story. A story I am remembering this Memorial Day. So to all of those fresh faced young men....and women, who served then and who are serving today, I offer my heartfelt gratitude for their sacrifice. I thank them for providing me with a tangible example of duty and honor. I thank them for returning home and continuing to live lives of honor among us. And to those who didn't return, those who gave all in the ultimate sacrifice, I pray for their soul and that they are peacefully at rest.
Thank you....
Indeed
The photos were old, taken a very long time ago and long before I was born. They were photos taken during the time my uncle served in the Air Force during WWII. Serving in the military was not uncommon among the males in my family. My dad served in the Navy, his brothers in the Marines and the Air Force. Lots of my friends had fathers and uncles who served as well. What was uncommon was talking about their service. Other than the occasional humor filled story about a "buddy", these men didn't discuss their service much. I never even knew my uncle spent any time in the Pacific during WWII until I saw the photographs. In fact neither my father nor his brothers discussed this time in their lives.
My Uncle Mickey was a quiet, gentle man. The only job I ever knew him to have was one in the library of a college in our town. He was sweet, a good cook and especially liked to bake. He tended a vegetable garden each year and was manic over doing crossword puzzles. He was dependable and full of good advice. He and my aunt lived a quiet, happy life together.
These photos made me wonder about him, wonder about the time he spent so far from home. It was obvious from their content that he saw action. The photos were of barracks and planes and of young men making the best of the situation. Fresh faces that did not reveal the turmoil surrounding their world. Fresh faces serving their country in a way that most of us will never understand. I am proud of my Uncle Mickey. Proud of what he did as service to his country, proud and grateful for his sacrifice. I wish he had talked about it to me, wish I knew something of what he experienced. I wish I could tell him what I feel about his service, tell him that I am grateful that he and all of those other young men in the photos had the courage to serve their country.
One of the photos in that box was of the First Marine Division Cemetery in Okinawa, Japan. Neat white crosses lined up tell the story. A story I am remembering this Memorial Day. So to all of those fresh faced young men....and women, who served then and who are serving today, I offer my heartfelt gratitude for their sacrifice. I thank them for providing me with a tangible example of duty and honor. I thank them for returning home and continuing to live lives of honor among us. And to those who didn't return, those who gave all in the ultimate sacrifice, I pray for their soul and that they are peacefully at rest.
Thank you....
Indeed
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