Thank You Veterans

[Dave Fuller]

My hat is off to all who served in our country's armed forces today. I am proud to know men like my dad who disarmed underwater munitions in Korea and my uncle who went straight to the Ardennes upon graduating from college. They were both lucky enough to come home and lead free and productive lives with never a word of complaint or regret. But to the ones who didn't come home we all owe a very special debt of gratitude.

[John Dunkle]

Well Said Dave..!

:cheers:

As well - here are my thoughts....

In short – I just wanted to post a simple post and say a sincere “thank you” to all who have served in the Armed services. Simply – just from Jen, me, my family – thank you…

And if you have the fortitude to read the rest – you will know why this is a simple sincere “Thank You”….

Rewind back twelve years ago. Maybe more? Perhaps a long time ago. The time really doesn’t matter, what matters is that this note – or post – is personal by nature – but I think speaks for a few. Jen – my yet to be wife – landed in Amsterdam for a business conference. It was a two day conference where I was highlighted to keynote about technology, about computers and what the Internet was expected to grow. It was a wonderful conference – filled with all that what was to be the future. Little did I realize – for me – it was more about the past?

After the two day conference, we decided – Jen, my yet to be wife and I decided to take a long overdue vacation, and drive from Amsterdam to Paris, a city which I have always loved and Jen had yet to see. It was the same time of year as you are reading this – May we rented a car, grabbed a few road maps and headed out of Amsterdam – south, through the south east, touching on Germany, through Belgium and on into France. We didn’t have a schedule, nor a tour guide, nor much more than a map and the road ahead.

And that was just fine – as it gave us the chance to see things as they “were” rather than what others wanted us to see on a toured guide. You see – on a toured guide, you’ll see all the sights – those that are most famous. They have been eulogized and photographed more that I could ever write about. But – this post isn’t about that – rather it is all about this..

During our adventure we drove through many small towns. Nameless towns. Town who stand today proud of their heritage, proud of their roots – centuries ago. Small towns.. Villages really. Towns with names like Caudry, Ardeche, Quieve and Martez. Towns – that past, present and future – you will bypass.

But – here is what I learned…

In each of those small towns, there are simple gravesites. Men, women and children are interred alongside men and women from America, Belgium, France, Germany, England – and many other countries. They are small graves. Small headstones. Small villages. Small towns. Small places.

And these small places along the roadside are places where heros lived, fought and died.

There are dozens. There are hundreds. There are thousands.

But each unique headstone, marker, grave, cemetery, village and town – can never be forgotten.

But – I ramble. Here is the point of this message…

In one small village we passed though about a decade ago somewhere – off the tourist map – was a town. The only policeman halted our car at the town square – three of four small buildings at most– and asked us to wait for the “parade” to pass. So we waited…. A few minutes later – up marched a few men & women in uniforms - followed by a horse and a cart. The uniforms were patched together uniforms from the great wars representing American, English, French, German, Italian and several others countries engaged in those horrendous conflicts of war.

After this parade passed – we pulled aside our car (the only one in sight) and I started chatting with some of the locals. I would like to share what they told me…

Their tiny village changed hands and countries throughout the war years. It was invaded. It was bombed once. It was burned down twice. It was a place where several locals were “taken away” never to be seen again. It was a place that isn’t known – easily forgotten.

But for all that – it’s no less significant.

On the edge of the town, there is a small cemetery filled by those who made the ultimate sacrifice to protect their way of life. And each year – they just want to remember those men. Those women. Those children.Those who made the ultimate sacrifice so..

Each year;

One Day that year;

That small town can remember those who gave everything

For a place most of us will never see nor know exists.

To those men.

To those people;

To all who gave so Jen & I could know what you did;

And to those villages – probably thousands by count…

Thank you for remembering along side all of us;

Remembering all those who died preserving many simple freedoms – and those who chose to serve protecting the same.

The true heros in any conflict are those who are no longer with us to write these words.

And to them?

Simply…

Thank you..

We will remember.

John

[Bruce Day]

John and Dave, your gracious comments are appreciated. We have many PGCA members who are veterans.

Bruce Day
USAF Ret.

[allen newell]

I can't talk about my Vietnam experience. Brings me to tears. The VA says I have ptsd. God bless all vets who have served out great country.

[CraigThompson]

I can't talk about my Vietnam experience. Brings me to tears. The VA says I have ptsd. God bless all vets who have served out great country.

I had an uncle that passed about two years ago now . He was the tail gunner on an Air Force propaganda plane flying out of Clark and dropping leaflets on North Korea . When they were going down he bailed out he got slightly impaled on a tree limb and was captured along with the rest on the plane . He spent three years there in my entire life I never heard him say more than a couple sentences about the uhm experience. Later in life he got quite paranoid that the doctors claimed was a by product of being held in captivity .

[John Dallas]

The older I get , the more watery my eyes get when I hear the National Anthem played, or the flag displayed

[Chuck Bishop]

I saw this video over Christmas. To this day, the people of this small town in Luxembourg still remember the kindness shown to them by this G.I. St.Nick and the Americans during the Battle of the Bulge.

https://youtu.be/F8oRik13OIY?si=W_JeQBbaU145YZhH

[Pete Lester]

Not all Veterans are combat veterans, many of us are what we call Cold War Warriors. Military service often demands sacrifices that most civilians would not accept. In my case it was spending a year, all of 1985 on very remote radar site in Iceland that monitored the comings and goings of the Soviet Air Force and directed fighters to intercept and escort them with the show of force. There were roughly 140 of us at the site, it was an unaccompanied assignment requiring family separation for a year. We lived, ate and worked 24/7 within a 125 yard circle. We lived in a one room facility regardless of rank. There was no TV, no radio, phone calls were too expensive to make, the internet had not been invented. You couldn't have a vehicle. There was no doctor or dentist if you needed one, just a couple of Med Techs. A couple of emergency Air Evacs happened but they could only be done during the day (in the winter days were only two to three hours long) and in good weather as the old H-3 choppers lacked navigational aids. The nearest bit of civilization was 14 miles away, a fishing village of 1500 people. It had a communist government and the Air Force deemed it off limits to us for that reason. There was little semblance of the life we take for granted. In the back our minds of those who were there we knew we would be the first casualties if the Cold War turn hot. In spite of remote nature looking back it was a good assignment for me as a young Captain. I learned a lot and grew as a person. If I could go back in time I wouldn't change a thing and do it all over again. As the old song goes, some gave all and all gave some.

[Kevin McCormack]

Chuck, the last time I came up to shoot at Hummelstown F&G, I took the Major Dick Winters (Band of Brothers) Expressway and made a detour to find the cemetery to visit his grave. So humble yet so gallant that he is remembered in this way. We can never really repay them for what they did for us.

If it wasn't for them, my uncle, shot down in a B-24 over Germany in September 1944, would have died in a German prison camp (Stalag Luft 4) in eastern Poland before the war ended. I saw Bill Guarnere (aka "Gonorrhea" in Band of Brothers) a couple of times at the Allentown Gun Show over the years. I always made a point of going to his table and thanking him for what he and the other members of the 506th PIR did on the fight from the night before D-Day in Normandy to the end of the war in May 1945. His response was always the same; "We did what we knew we had to do."

The matter-of-fact practicality of their very existence and survival is eloquently reflected in the epitaph selected by Sgt. Joe Toy of Providence RI for his tombstone: all he wanted inscribed read, "Joe Toy, Sargeant, 506 PIR, 101st Airborne."