Veteran's Day
Nov. 11th, 2003 05:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdI don't have anything witty.
Just many memories:
RIP:
My grandfather, tech Sergeant HJ Wymer. Manned the radio room for a dozen missions, shot down in North Africa, contracted malaria that haunted him until the day he died.
His best war story: a new-minted lieutant, college boy and a know-it-all, was assigned to the crate. He started giving everyone sass, but when he tried it on grandpa, the gunner took him aside and said "Boy, you may have a diploma and be 6' tall, but that little guy there has flown more missions than you have medals and he will take you up and get you killed." The lieutenant unbent, and last I heard, he was telling that story at their unit reunions.
Grandpa's best war joke: "When they get home, those old tommies are gonna be scraping all the bluebird crap off the White Cliffs of Dover."
Marion Fantz: paternal grandfather. Contracted measels in basic training and listed as 4F. He and grandma ran a store just off a base in California, catering mostly to soldiers. Later became a scholbus driver.
Mr. Moss: My grandmother's husband, the man who gave my father his name if nothing else.
Ruth and Paul Clark: Hubby's maternal grandparents. Both in the Army: Paul in Pacific Theater, and Ruth stateside. Her picture in her WAC uniform was used as a recruiting poster and pin-up.
Don Sparrow: Mudd's paternal uncle. 19 years older than Mudd's dad, Don went off to war and came home to find a baby brother.
The vets still living:
Dad: Army National Guard during the Vietnam War. Was sent in to quell the Kansas City Race Riots in 1968. Sent Mom and me to stay with my grandparents in the country. The National Guard was not issued bullets. The rioters had them though.
Darren: Senior Airman, honorable discharge. Good friend, good top, lousy collaborator, homophobe and closet-case. (His wife looks a LOT like Mudd and is similar personality wise)
David: Ex-boyfriend, Navy man, outed by his boyfriend. Stayed in and fought for the honorable discharge his record merited. Got it too.
Ron Brannon: teacher. Navy vet. Good man. Great teacher. Miss him muchly.
In Flanders Fields
John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
The quarrel is and always has been the cause of liberty.
Let us not break faith, whether in the face of foreign or domestic agressors.
"Those who would sacrifice Liberty for Security deserve neither."--Benjamin Franklin.
Just many memories:
RIP:
My grandfather, tech Sergeant HJ Wymer. Manned the radio room for a dozen missions, shot down in North Africa, contracted malaria that haunted him until the day he died.
His best war story: a new-minted lieutant, college boy and a know-it-all, was assigned to the crate. He started giving everyone sass, but when he tried it on grandpa, the gunner took him aside and said "Boy, you may have a diploma and be 6' tall, but that little guy there has flown more missions than you have medals and he will take you up and get you killed." The lieutenant unbent, and last I heard, he was telling that story at their unit reunions.
Grandpa's best war joke: "When they get home, those old tommies are gonna be scraping all the bluebird crap off the White Cliffs of Dover."
Marion Fantz: paternal grandfather. Contracted measels in basic training and listed as 4F. He and grandma ran a store just off a base in California, catering mostly to soldiers. Later became a scholbus driver.
Mr. Moss: My grandmother's husband, the man who gave my father his name if nothing else.
Ruth and Paul Clark: Hubby's maternal grandparents. Both in the Army: Paul in Pacific Theater, and Ruth stateside. Her picture in her WAC uniform was used as a recruiting poster and pin-up.
Don Sparrow: Mudd's paternal uncle. 19 years older than Mudd's dad, Don went off to war and came home to find a baby brother.
The vets still living:
Dad: Army National Guard during the Vietnam War. Was sent in to quell the Kansas City Race Riots in 1968. Sent Mom and me to stay with my grandparents in the country. The National Guard was not issued bullets. The rioters had them though.
Darren: Senior Airman, honorable discharge. Good friend, good top, lousy collaborator, homophobe and closet-case. (His wife looks a LOT like Mudd and is similar personality wise)
David: Ex-boyfriend, Navy man, outed by his boyfriend. Stayed in and fought for the honorable discharge his record merited. Got it too.
Ron Brannon: teacher. Navy vet. Good man. Great teacher. Miss him muchly.
In Flanders Fields
John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
The quarrel is and always has been the cause of liberty.
Let us not break faith, whether in the face of foreign or domestic agressors.
"Those who would sacrifice Liberty for Security deserve neither."--Benjamin Franklin.
