The next time you see someone in the military put down your latte and shake their hand. Say thank you. And remember this video.
Because unless you've been there yourself you have no idea what they give up for you, me and America.
And even for that POS POTUS CinC ingrate Uncle Barry.
Thanks Christian Soldier
(have some kleenex handy for this one)
4 comments:
Good sage advice and a equally good video. Thanks... I'm pullin a Muhammad and Hijacking it with link ..TY
thank you for the h/t MR :-)
I need a Kleenex every time I watch it -and - I've watched it a lot!!!
TO our BEST!!!!and to our BEST's BEST!!!!!
C-CS
Great video! Thanks for sharing it.
I had a scene like this when my father returned from Viet Nam after his second tour of duty as a US Army combat medic. He would go on to serve one more. It was 1968, I was at swim practice. All of sudden standing at the edge of the pool waiting my turn in our lap drills, I hear my father scream my name. He's in the parking lot walking toward the gate. I start running, but then realize I hadn't asked permission! What a military kid I was! So I stopped and turned to the coach and asked permission! Permission granted. And I flew down the length of the pool, up the small hill, out the gate to the parking lot before dad made it half way toward the gate. I remember the sheer joy of jumping in his arms and him twirling me around.
I was 10 at the time, still almost as strong as the boys on the team, and at the time, the team's fastest swimmer. I missed practice though for two weeks while my father was home, and when I went back, the boy who was gaining on me daily and which race was an every day triumph for me and my gender, easily overtook me upon my return.
Stationed at Travis AFB with my husband in the mid '80s, I would always take our two daughters to Fairfield's 4th of July parade. At that time there still were WWII veterans who marched in the parade along with other military groups from the ROTC to the CAP to a military band from Travis. And here would come the Viet Nam vets, a rag tag group of maybe 20 or so, in jeans and fatigue jackets, carrying an American flag and a couple of company insignia flags. Invariably, a hush would fall over the crowd. And then when they got near us, all you could hear was my big mouth, screaming and hollering and clapping LOUD.
Like many Viet Nam vets, after his retirement, dad's alcoholism and VA legal drug use spiraled out of control, but he will always be a hero to me. When he came home from his last tour, for a while, he would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, sometimes it was "Run for the bunkers, run for the bunkers!" We would all be roused, but eventually got back to sleep, but he would sit at the dining room table and drink till dawn. My father died ten years ago this year, at 73. He never questioned his country. He was a soldier. And throughout his retirement, an American flag flew proudly at his home. In many ways, he never left Viet Nam and he never really became a civilian.
"Where the veterans, dream of the fight, fast asleep at the traffic light ...."
Post a Comment