30 June 2003

The Men in My Family Who Loved America

War is more real to me in this little French town.  The house I live in has bullet holes that look like small 3 inch wounds in the massive stone walls.  Yesterday my darling husband found a bullet casing from a German rifle in the dirt of our garden. 

This Memorial Day I find myself thinking a little differently about the stories of the men in my family who served in the military.   I am saddened to think that yet another year has passed and the world is filled with conflicts and violence.  It makes me wonder about how much the people in my family have sacrificed, and how much more will come.

My Dad went off to WWII when he was just out of high school and raring to show his patriotic heart, as did many boys during those years.   He had learned this unquestioning loyalty from his own father.  His dad cried at the sound of the Star Spangled Banner on Friday nights at the fall high school football games where my father played proudly for Linden McKinley High School.

He was a big strapping guy, as my grandma would say.  This blond blue-eyed All American boy had an opinion around the dinner table, but in public he liked to go along with the crowd.  I adored my father when I was a little girl in the 1960’s.  He seemed bigger then life.  We were kindred spirits in many ways…always the peacemakers when there was turmoil.

During WWII my father wanted to enlist in the Navy, but when he visited the recruiter they told him he had to loose weight first.  He immediately went on a carrot diet.  Before he got down to the desired weight he received a draft notice.  Off he went to his physical.  As he stood in line waiting to be assigned to a branch of the service he could hear the recruiter checking off “Army” for each man.  When it was finally Dad’s turn he spoke before the guy could say, “Army” and asked, “Don’t you have anything else?”.  The guy said, “Navy” and that was the beginning of Dad’s growing up.

By the time he got on a ship it was near the end of the war and on their first trip out to sea they learned that the war had ended.  He did get to Hawaii, which he felt was an exotic place for a boy who had spent most of his life in Portsmouth, Ohio.

The Service, as they called it in those days changed my father.  He learned a lot about the underbelly of life, and about comradely and the meaning of family and community.  When he returned to Columbus, Ohio he was eager to go to college and have a normal life.  He never spoke of his military experiences until he was on his deathbed.

My mom’s brother also served in WWII.  Uncle Jim ended up in Europe fighting on some of the very streets where I now live in France.  He earned many medals for his actions.  He was also the pride of my grandmother who came to America as a German immigrant at the tender age of seven.  Sadly she died waiting for her son to return from the war. 

My uncle was a dear man.  He was kind and good hearted.  He didn’t have children until he had been married 25 years.  As an old man he suffered severe depression and nightmares from what we now call “post traumatic stress”, which all came from his experiences as a young man in the war.  He had never spoken about his experiences in Europe.

There are many more men in my family who have bravely done their duty for America starting with both of my great great grandfathers who were disabled fighting for the North during the Civil War.  Some fought in the Spanish American War.  Others fought in Korea.  My brother who served during Vietnam is totally unable to function in life to this day stemming from his “war” experiences.

My grandmother, who was the most patriotic woman I ever knew repeated many times later in life that when one by one her sons went off to war she would say that she didn’t want another woman’s son to die that way.  I will never forget her sentiment.

My own mother loves America unconditionally.  She was one of the first in her neighborhood to display multiple flags after September 11.  She has said to me over and over that she doesn’t want another woman to loose her son as she has done.

During this holiday weekend when many of us will celebrate the beginning of a summer of warm weather, picnics and vacations, I will be celebrating the spirit of those brave men in my family who did their duty to keep America strong.

But I will also be reflecting on what it means to commit to a world where peace must prevail so that the sons and daughters, and husbands and wives, and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles of this generation will not be lost to us ever again.