cbtreks

Some years I do my standard Veterans Day rant but I'm not this year. I think Veterans Day doesn't exist where I live and work - I haven't seen or heard any mention of it locally. Sucks. We have three veterans in our office but no acknowledgment of them. (Wait, there was some mention of it - because the courts were all closed. One thing about being a government employee - there's no shortage of days off!)

Anyway, today is my paternal grandfather's birthday. He died in 1973 (the day before Halloween - known as Devil's Night in Michigan, where we lived - no significance to that, just thought I'd throw that in), when I was 10; if he were alive today, he'd be 109. He's probably glad not to have to be 109! Grampa - Herbert Henry, known as Bert or HH - was born in 1900 in Nottingham, England. He emigrated to Michigan in the spring of 1920, while still 19. Never saw his parents again, in fact, didn't return to England for a visit until 1953. He turned 18 on Armistice Day and never was in the military. (His two-years-older brother William - Bill - was in the Army in WWI.) Grampa never lost his accent and I only ever saw him wear either workpants with a white button-down shirt or a suit. Always grey, I think. He never left the house, or at least the property, without his hat. He smoked and he liked overripe bananas. Black ones. The only time I ever spent the night at his house by myself, he cooked Dinty Moore Beef Stew for dinner. Grampa was left-handed but was forced to switch to the right hand at school. He wrote with his right hand, drew with his left, and painted with either. He was a housepainter - my oldest cousin, who used to work for him in the summers, says he could draw a perfectly straight line along the length of a wall with no ruler. Grampa was not a sentimental man but he wrote at least one poem. Though a Christian, he was not a church-goer when I knew him, though he attended regularly when my dad and his siblings were growing up. Except Christmas and Easter - he said he would give up his seat on those days to one of those people that never darkened a church door except on those two holidays. There was a small hill in the back yard at his house and my sisters and I had so much fun rolling down it. Grampa's house was where I watched one of the Apollo rockets lift off.
( Read more... )

So happy Grampa's Birthday everyone!

(And seriously - to all our veterans - thank you.)

I planned on posting these links to a couple of YouTube vids on Veteran's Day but didn't have access at home yet and also wasn't really feeling well, so probably wouldn't have gotten around to posting anyway. So I'm late this year.

Not really safe for public viewing only because they might make you cry.

The Green Fields of France

(I can't remember why I was looking up "Green Fields of France" videos last summer, but I was and found this one.)

And also this one (which would be even more appropriate on Anzac Day but I'm posting it now):

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

And since it's Friday night and I have time to do some hunting, I found a few more:

Footage from Iwo Jima:

Iwo Jima

Korea: In Color

In Color

This one today about the Vietnam war:

Wish You Were Here

(Irish watched this and was telling me the names of different places he could recognize from the footage.)

And finally, one from Canada:

Johnny We Hardly Knew You

These are all downers, aren't they? I didn't really feel like posting happy, "yay! we won!" celebratory vids this Veteran's Day. I know this sounds bizarre and probably crass, but I hope when Obama becomes president, he allows the media to show footage of our dead soldiers and coming home. Bush has prevented video of coffins being offloaded from being shown on the news (and how did that happen in a country with a free press?) - but I think that, whether one believes a war is necessary, whether one agrees with it or not, it should never be sanitized, we - those of us who haven't lost anyone close to us - should not be allowed to forget or gloss over the fact that men and women are dying to accomplish these goals and not everyone who comes home is doing so seated in an airplane. Too many, as in any war, are coming home in a box in the cargo hold.

***

My family has been so blessed - there are veterans on both sides of my family and not one - grandparents, uncles, cousins - was lost. They've all come home, since WWI. Am I thankful? Do I believe in miracles? You know it! (Irish wasn't so lucky - he lost all but, I believe, 3 male cousins in Vietnam - so many that the family quit having its annual reunion because it was too heartbreaking.)

In honor of Great Uncle Bill (English Army - WWI), Grampa Gene (Navy), Uncle Ed (Navy), Uncle Bill (Navy), Uncle Jack (Army, I think)(all WWII), Grampa Carl (Korea), Great Uncle Jim (Army or Navy; I don't remember - late 1950s or early 1960s, no combat), Uncle Lee (Air Force - 1957, no combat), Husband Mike (Marines - 1968-1978, 2 tours in Vietname), Cousin Roger (Army - Vietnam), Cousin Mark (English Navy - briefly in the late 1970s), Cousin Wes (Navy - 1990s till just recently, no combat), 2nd Cousin David (Navy - same time frame, no combat), and 2nd Cousin Doug (Navy - 2000s - mostly in Guam, but was stationed in Afghanistan for a year). I've probably forgotten some, particularly in-laws and English relatives; I honor them too.

Eighty-seven years ago my paternal grandfather, in Nottingham, England, turned 18. At the same time, in Compiegne, France, WWI was ending. I've often joked that grampa should have thanked his mother every year on his birthday for her great timing. There's no doubt that, given his age and class, he would have been drafted had the war continued.

( November 11 )

That's the rant for the year. It tends to be an annual thing. *g* Back to fandom now.