A couple of months ago, back when it was still cold and snowy, we were enjoying a Saturday afternoon at home. One of my son’s buddies was over as were some other folks when the doorbell rang. It was the 80-something woman from two houses down, and boy was she frantic. Her boyfriend, who was recovering from hip replacement surgery, had fallen off a barstool and could not get up from the floor. She needed some assistance to get him up and into a bed. I put on my boots and headed over to their house where I was able to lift him up and carry him over to the bed. Apparently, his hip had popped out causing him to fall off the stool. Needless to say he was in a lot of pain.
I figured that’s what neighbors are for, that’s what you do. You help out.
This past Sunday, my family and I were out in the garage getting ready to do some yard work, when Jim (the gentleman I had helped out a couple of months ago) drives up and pulls into our driveway. He wanted to thank me for helping him out, which really did not seem like a big deal to me. He explained all the hip surgeries he has been through, and where he had worked, and we just generally had a nice conversation. I had not really talked with him before as he has only been in the neighborhood for about 2 years and we generally don’t see them much.
As we were talking, he noted my crutches and asked what happened. I explained that I had ruptured my achilles tendon at drill at Great Lakes a while back and he answered that his son had gone to boot camp there. He further explained that he had done his boot camp at Parris Island.
We started sharing military experiences, and he stated that the worst time he spent in the Marines was when he was in Korea and trying to sleep on the ground at 30 below zero.
I noted that I had read a couple of accounts of the Chosin Reservoir and how it was bone chillingly cold for the Marines up there.
“That’s where I was,” he answered.
Needless to say, I was floored.
I didn’t have a comeback for that, except to shake his hand and thank him for his service. We continued to talk for a while more until we were done.
He headed on home and my wife and I got on with the yardwork, with a new found respect for the man down the street.
I’m a career firefighter/paramedic who is also in the Marine Corps Reserve. Last night at 0300 we were sent on smoke issuing from a home. We arrived to find an elderly gentleman with his walker on the porch, light smoke issuing from the home. After extinguishing the small fire and getting the smoke out, I noticed his “I love me” wall in the spare room-retired First Sgt, USMC. I showed him the Eagle Globe and Anchor on the frontpiece of my helmet, and the stories started. 26 years, 3 tours in Nam, DI, the whole 9 yards. I cleaned up the mess from the fire for him, and came back this morning after my shift ended to put up a new smoke detector-the one he had had failed. He couldn’t thank me enough, and all I could think of was how unfair it is that this brave man is so disabled after his service to Country and Corps. I was humbled to be given the opportunity to help him out. I’m sure he would have done the same for me.
Semper fidelis
You just never know where you will find a veteran.
We few, we band of brothers…”
Semper Fi!
Marine6 Sends
Figure you Marines won’t mind this sad post about a brave young man who fought as long and hard as he could. He was burned over 97% of his body and had more than 100 surgeries. Couldn’t fight back from the last one.
“DoD Identifies Marine Casualty
The Department of Defense announced today the death of a Marine who was supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Sgt. Merlin German, 22 of Manhattan, N.Y., died April 11 at Brooke Army Medical Center, San Antonio, Texas, from wounds he suffered while conducting combat operations in Al Anbar province, Iraq, on Feb. 22, 2005. He was assigned to the 5th Battalion, 11th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Camp Pendleton, Calif., while deployed in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. German’s parent unit was the 2nd Battalion, 11th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Camp Pendleton, Calif. He was medically retired Sept. 28, 2007, as a result of his injuries.
Media with questions about this Marine can contact the Headquarters Marine Corps public affairs office at (703) 614-4309.”
In the ER’s around L.A County where I earn my living as a nurse, I have had the absolute honor of taking care of the occasional (every year fewer) WWII vet who had been there and done that. The 89 year old who was a waist gunner in B-17′s over the ETO, the 88 year old with a tattoo that looked like a blob of old ink on his forearm but which I saw as the globe and anchor and when asked, got a glazed look then started talking in halting oral history about Bougainville, Tarawa, Saipan and Iwo, and I hung on every word….took care of the wife of ADM. Nimitz during my corpsman days, stories about tea with the Roosevelt’s and such, wish I had a recorder during those times. 2 years ago, took care of a very frail woman in her 90′s with a set of numbers tattoo’d on the inside of her right forearm…. I knew what those numbers were. She would not speak of it, she only asked me for “alittle water”.
I came by to ask a question. But I’ll join in and ask later.
Next door neighbor to my Mom, passed away not long ago. So frail, in his 80s. I never knew such a man could be so brave. He was Jewish and fought in Europe WWII. He had always been helpful when I was out of town to my Mom and Grandmother. I only learned all of this later as I was usually away weekly, but had a chance to help him out one day finally with his car problems.
He supported you guys fiercely, Iraq and Afghanistan. He loved our country and opened a little burger joint after the war with his wife. He had quite the personality and it was funny to see him and his niece go at it. He was conservative, she a liberal. Well… I got a few laughs at her expense ribbing her a little about how much I admired his service. She was always nice.
As he got sicker, we checked in on him, hospital calls and at home. I attended his funeral as a result of our talks though I did not know him as well as I’d hoped. I had more questions to ask him and just talk. Time goes by fast. It was quite humbling to know him if only for a little while. I was able to tell him my appreciation for his service.
What I’ve found is most men that have served. You have to go to some effort to find out initially about their service. Their humble, yet determined and disciplined.
Thanks guys and thanks to all our vets.
Thanks to all the vets on this site.
One of the Men I’ve had the great pleasure of knowing is one of my Dad’s best freinds and neighbors. He is a WWII vet. I knew he had been a combat engineer but never had asked a lot about his service. After discussing some of my military service and working on a research paper of the river crossing at Remagen, I found out that Bill had been one of the Combat Engineers that took the bridge and defused some of the explosives while taking fire. He made it through that battle, and fought through the rest of the european campaign. Bill is pretty creaky now, but we’re taking the best care of him we can.
Great story, Bull Nav, and equally great comments, all. Made my day…but the lumps in the throat make it kinda hard to talk…
Yes, every one of those are walking history books…and quickly fading…some towns are interviewing and preserving their priceless stories.
It might not be only a stranger that tells you a story.
My father in law was a WW II tanker. He told me stories how he fought German tanks that sported the better 88 mm guns. He duked it out with them during the day and at night slept in a water and ice filled slit trench he dug to survive all-night artillery barrages. He told men of seeing an entire unit of about a dozen tank and crews that had never seen combat get killed by the superior German tanks in their very first engagement. Those inexperienced crew had about 5 minutes of combat time before KIA. And lots of other stories.
The interesting thing is that he never told those stories to anyone of his family members. Why? They had not been in the service. I had. So he felt comfortable telling me, a virtual stranger, his most person recollects of his most important time of his life. I also understood why he had times of depression, and drank, and was angry. His family thought he was just a grumpy SOB. But I knew where that came from.
So don’t be afraid to ask a question or two. It might be doing an old many who has held it all in a chance to let it all out.
k
Matt,
PLEASE ask Bill if he remembers a JC Bray. He was my grandfather who died in 1994. I found out about 3 months ago (from my mom) that he was in command of Engineering group (she didn’t know what size) that took the bridge at Remaden. She said he NEVER spoke of it but that one of his friends in later years mentioned the “horror of watching the slaughter of his men” as they made their way across the bridge. His last interview (family thought it would be a good thing to do, about 1993) he said he was proudest of working for the 2 finest organizations in the world – US Army and the FBI (after he came home).
He never gave advice, just told us stories that, looking back, always had a hidden lesson. It was up to us to figure it out. I sure miss him.
I work In Philly’s 30th St. Station adn keep running across guys wearing military realated gimme hats. One old codger had a DD logo, so I said, “I know that ship. Were you at Leyte Gulf?” “Oh, no” he said” we were on teh pickett line at Okinawa. In fact she was the last destroyer sunk in WWII. That was ok, though, I was only in the water for 12 or 14 hours.”
My former next door neighbor was a combat engineer with 3rd Army, I had an uncle who flew 27 B-17 missions of western Europe, 389th Bomb Group, 603rd Squadron. (If there any AF guys out there who’d like to read his combat log, I have a copy)
My son is in the Marines right now, facing his third meritorious promotion in 2 1/2 years.
Smoke Alarm Systems
Wireless Smoke Alarm System: Find Customer-Rated Electrical Contractors and Electrical Artic
One of the greatest honors I have had in my 13 years in the Corps was driving General Ray Davis. General Davis was the Bn commander and Medal of Honor recipient at Chosin. I spent a week driving this man all around Camp Pendleton during a “Chosin Few” reunion. The stories this man and his wife shared with me are stories I will ever forget. The other thing that I will never forget is the feeling of awe and pride I had when I opened the door so he could get out of the car at the 1st Mar Div CP and seeing the Congressional Medal of Honor draped around his neck. I will never stand more perfectly at attention or snap a crisper salute than I did at that moment.