The Germans could never see us
crouched low, eyes just above the grass. They were looking hard too, scanning
the French countryside for the inferior Americans they would kill if they had a
chance. Oh, we were scared, petrified. If Germans didn’t kill us my mother
would have if we destroyed her award winning azaleas.
That was
the extent of my combat experience, child’s play, picking who would be a
sergeant, corporal, or general. Born in 1960 I had the luxury of not being forced
to fight. I did reach eighteen in 1978, the first year the government
reinstated signing up for the draft. I remember going to the post office with
high school buddies to sign the card. I certainly wasn’t worried about paying
the ultimate price for my country. I was going to be an opera singer.
Today, I do understand the ultimate price,
dying, never to see your wife, your children grow up, your brother who
protected you, the sister who gave you the girls point of view, the
grandparents who spoiled you, the uncle who took you fishing, the aunt who when
getting off the bus you ran to anticipating the present. The father who
instilled “never say can’t”, “never quit”, “suck it up”, “shake it off”, or the
mother who’s azaleas did get me in a heap of trouble.
This
weekend, let’s thank all of those who have served in the Army, Navy, Air Force,
Marines, Coast Guard, and The National Guard.
