Two of my uncles and my father served in WWII. My father joined marines at 17(the lied about his age)and served in the Pacific theater. An uncle was a B-24 pilot in Europe. All three returned. My brother served in Viet Nam in Intelligence; he returned but as a total wreck and eventually committed suicide in 1986. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you ever get over that.
I met a security guard some years back late at night as I was in our local aviation museum checking on something. He had two sons who had served in the military and he had been in special forces of some kind. One of his sons was sitting a guard post outside the US embassy gate when the Tet offensive started. They found him at his post when it was over; there was 200+ bodies in an arc out in front of him. Unfortunately, he had run out of ammo and was KIA. His other son flies helicopters here in Alaska. This fellow was short and pretty overweight and 62yrs old when I met him. His gunny had called him from the middle east when he was 60 and said, "my best gunner got killed; I need you over here now". He was on a plane the next day and spent a year riding around in the back of a truck taking buildings apart with a .50 cal Browning...at 60yrs old. I could hardly speak after hearing this. I felt that I didn't deserve to be standing in the same place and breathing the same air as this guy. If you met him you'd think he was almost incapable of climbing a set of stairs. Not so. And here he was a night security guard at a park complex in Fairbanks. There's plenty like him amongst us, I think. I make a point to thank every guy I see with a hat on that shows what branch he served in. It's the least we can do and they always appreciate it, especially the V Nam guys. Hats off to them, I say.
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