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Between the BBQ and the pool, the party and the cocktails....


bigvalboy
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Guest Starbuck

BVB ... That was a good thing to do. Made me think about my uncles and my dad, a bunch of WWII vets. All of them gone now, but proud of their service until their dying days. Thank you.

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http://www.nps.gov/inde/washington-square.htm

 

I live close enough to visit on Monday. Many Revolutionary War soldiers are buried in this National Park close to where Washington lived in Philadelphia when he was president.

Alexander Hamilton lived a few block east of the park.

 

My dad served in World War II. Every year, without fail, flags are placed at his grave by veterans.

It is amazing and very special.

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http://www.nps.gov/inde/washington-square.htm

 

I live close enough to visit on Monday. Many Revolutionary War soldiers are buried in this National Park close to where Washington lived in Philadelphia when he was president.

Alexander Hamilton lived a few block east of the park.

 

My dad served in World War II. Every year, without fail, flags are placed at his grave by veterans.

It is amazing and very special.

 

That is amazing and special William...you must be very proud. Far too many of us forget about our veterans. Thinking of Jackhammer today, and his small tribute after every post.

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That is amazing and special William...you must be very proud. Far too many of us forget about our veterans. Thinking of Jackhammer today, and his small tribute after every post.

 

I am thinking of Jackhammer as well this weekend.

 

Amazing that I never realize until writing my post just now that I will have flags on my grave as well on Memorial Day having served in Vietnam. Thanks for starting this thread, bigvalboy!

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I lost my Father in the last 6 months to Alzheimers. He was a veteran of the Korean War and a very kind, gentle, man who accepted me for the person I am, with no judgement and no prejudice in his heart. I love you, Dad.....to the moon and back!

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My Dad served in WW2 in the Navy and believe it or not, we're still lucky enough to have him with us.

 

We've spent hours talking about his memories of that era.

 

And a THANK YOU to to the GI bill ..... it got him a college education and made all my family's success possible.

 

My Dad actually said something like this to me once about the GI bill after WW2 .... I couldn't believe it. "They had all these young men coming home from war, so they could send them off to rape, or send them off to college. So we all went to college."

 

The veterans deserve our love, memories and our ongoing support.

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I haven't been to Arlington for years, and we don't have an equivalent. Veterans buried in Australia tend to lie in ordinary cemeteries with a Defence Force headstone, as my grandfather and grandmother do.

 

Overseas we have our fallen buried at Bomana near Port Moresby, at Changi, at Gallipoli and in their tens of thousands in the cemeteries on the Western Front.

 

The names of every one of them are on the walls of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.

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I haven't been to Arlington for years, and we don't have an equivalent. Veterans buried in Australia tend to lie in ordinary cemeteries with a Defence Force headstone, as my grandfather and grandmother do.

 

Overseas we have our fallen buried at Bomana near Port Moresby, at Changi, at Gallipoli and in their tens of thousands in the cemeteries on the Western Front.

 

The names of every one of them are on the walls of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.

 

South Korean soldiers and Australian soldiers were highly respected in Vietnam by Americans. Given the significant contributions Aussies have made in many wars, I am glad all the names of fallen vets are on the walls of the

Australian War Memorial in Canberra. Wish I had known, I have visited Australia three times.

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I first visited Arlington national Cemetery at the age of 24. It had been three months since I "came out" and as a young man I was full of optimism for life, love and humanity at large; I was humbled by the shear number of brave men and women who lay before me at my feet in their final resting place, and the sense of profound loss for a sitting President that I only knew from his inspirational speeches, history books and Eternal Flame flickering before me.

 

So moved was I by this event that I stoically wept behind the safety of my Ray Bands; not for myself, but for all the souls resting around me, everything they sacrificed, all the loved ones they left behind and anyone who who still wistfully pined for their special someone to walk through that door.

 

I left Arlington with a renewed since of self worth knowing that I had a life to live the way I wanted, feeling very much a benefactor of their sacrifice.

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I am the daughter of a WWII vet who died three years ago. My father was originally turned down for service when he tried to enlist because his parents, while legal US residents, were citizens of Korea, a nation that had been occupied and oppressed by the Japanese since 1905, forced to use the Japanese language rather than Korean, and which forced Korean women to serve as sex slaves. Feeling that this was wrong, seeing as his parents hated the Japanese -- his mother crossed the street and spat in the gutter every time she passed someone of Japanese descent, as during the occupation she watched the Japanese execute her first husband, her father, and her brother -- he wrote to President Roosevelt explaining the situation. I don't know if that was the cause, but he was allowed to enlist and assigned to the Army Air Force.

 

He wanted to be a pilot, but they needed navigators. He grew up on a truck farm in or around Denver, where he took a semester off from school and running the farm at age 13 after his father broke his arm falling out of a fruit tree he was working on. Farmers know how to read the weather, so in many ways navigating was perfect. On one training flight, one of the other trainees got hopelessly lost and didn't know where they were. The instructor put my father in the seat next and asked him to get them back on course. He got within a degree or two of it, and was told he was finished training.

 

VE Day occurred not long after he arrived in Europe. His flight crew was scheduled to take what turned out to be the last bombing run in Europe, but another flight crew that only needed one more mission to be able to go home took the job instead and were shot down and became POWs. (As far as I know, they survived and were released later.) He was bumped from another flight by a navigator who needed the hours to get flight pay. That plane crashed into the side of a mountain and everyone on board died. There was no apparent indication of engine trouble, mechanical failure or poor weather conditions, so the crash appeared to be due to human error. My father contended that had he been on the flight, it would not have gone down. Knowing him, I'm sure he's right.

 

He also moved to the back of the plane when they landed at Gibraltar because the runway was so short and easy to overshoot. He spent most of his time in Europe post-VE Day shuttling refugees back home and mapping North Africa and left the military as a first lieutenant. I am sure he got called names, but he wouldn't admit to any discrimination and always let that kind of thing roll off his back. He was only 5' 6", but he knew what he was doing and got the job done, and I'll bet everyone he served with respected him. He also intimidated the shit out of people.

 

He had no truck with anything less than excellence (so Asian of him) and was the first person in his family to attend college (all his siblings were girls) courtesy of the GI Bill, graduating with a degree in engineering and accounting and then joining a major multinational corporation as an engineer, where he went on to create a product or process that qualified for patent coverage. He did not suffer stupidity or fools gladly, spent every day of his life reading the newspaper first thing in the morning, and was the only Republican, to my knowledge, in a family that liked to talk about politics. He nevertheless considered FDR a great man, though Ronald Reagan might have replaced him as my father's favorite president. (I know, shudder, but he was big on fiscal responsibility. Too bad the Republicans don't actually have any.) To my stepmother, his nickname (my mom died when I was 15) was "cocky bastard."

 

I love you, Dad. It's people like you who make this country great. I will take time to pause and remember you tomorrow. When I'm in DC this summer (whenever I actually get there), I'd like to visit the WWII memorial you visited a few years before you died. (I've already been to the memorial to the futile war that raged when I was a preteen and teen.) *salutes*

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My father is a Korean War vet. I am very proud of that, but more about that shortly.

 

With apologies to my kids (because I love them more than life itself), the two most emotionally powerful moments of my life are:

 

#2: Visiting the Vietnam War Memorial at age 16 (mid 80s.) I was part of a school group, 5 buses, and we were acting like 16- year-olds. Until we got off the bus. The Memorial has a reverent "Aura" that stopped us in our tracks. Hundreds of teenagers, my group, quietly toured the Memorial.

 

#1: Playing "Taps" at a Military funeral. I had played solos in front of thousands of people, but, to this day, I have no idea how I got through it. I still cry when I think about it, including now.

 

My Dad is in his 80's and recently asked me to play "Taps" at his funeral. I'm honored beyond words, but I don't think I could do it again. Especially at his funeral. Only time will tell if I'm strong enough to give him that last request.

 

So, to ALL Military, past and present, Thank You.

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My father is a Korean War vet. I am very proud of that, but more about that shortly.

 

With apologies to my kids (because I love them more than life itself), the two most emotionally powerful moments of my life are:

#1: Playing "Taps" at a Military funeral. I had played solos in front of thousands of people, but, to this day, I have no idea how I got through it. I still cry when I think about it, including now.

 

My Dad is in his 80's and recently asked me to play "Taps" at his funeral. I'm honored beyond words, but I don't think I could do it again. Especially at his funeral. Only time will tell if I'm strong enough to give him that last request.

 

So, to ALL Military, past and present, Thank You.

 

#1...What an incredible honor, and what an honor to be asked to play "Taps" at your father's funeral. Prayers that when that day finally comes, you will find the strength.

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Thanks for posting this BVB... I watched the National Memorial Concert last night on PBS, and was moved to tears by the stories and tributes to the wounded and disabled service men and women and their families. What an outstanding tribute. I hope you all saw it. To see what these guys did in fighting back after losing limbs and being paralyzed and the love and support from their families was very moving. I too mourn for deceased relatives and friends, but my heart really goes out to those who are disabled in body, mind and spirit who continue to fight back and restore as much of a normal life as possible. Thanks too to all of you who have posted here in response to the great post by BVB.

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QTR,

 

A wonderful and moving tribute to your dad. You are very much your father's daughter. Having been in the military, I strongly suspect that his letter to Pres. Roosevelt made the difference.

 

You're probably right. That's what I would assume, too, but as far as I know, he had no direct proof of it.

 

I, along with everyone else in the family, am still waiting for the slideshow from the memorial at the funeral home from three years ago. My sister-in-law has yet to produce it. Maybe I will ask around for the posterboard with the report a local student charged with interviewing an elderly person about their life did on my dad's military service. It has a copy of a news story from the local newspaper about his enlistment and where he trained, complete with his photo.

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You're probably right. That's what I would assume, too, but as far as I know, he had no direct proof of it.

 

I, along with everyone else in the family, am still waiting for the slideshow from the memorial at the funeral home from three years ago. My sister-in-law has yet to produce it. Maybe I will ask around for the posterboard with the report a local student charged with interviewing an elderly person about their life did on my dad's military service. It has a copy of a news story from the local newspaper about his enlistment and where he trained, complete with his photo.

 

I lived in Massachusetts when I was imducted in the army in 1967. One does not have much say as s draftee.

 

I successfully completed almost sixteen weeks of tough training when I was sent to field wireman school at Fort Dix. It meant climbing telephone polls. I was really tired by then. I wrote to my senator, Ted Kennedy. Within a day, I was workimg in the company at Fort Dix where I had basic training.

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I love you, Dad. It's people like you who make this country great. I will take time to pause and remember you tomorrow. When I'm in DC this summer (whenever I actually get there), I'd like to visit the WWII memorial you visited a few years before you died.

 

Beautiful words, QTR.

 

I actually get to spend all next weekend with my favorite WW2 Memorial: my Dad. :)

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