Saturday, November 11, 2006

JUST ANOTHER TRIBUTE...BUT PLEASE READ ANYWAY.

So Today is Veteran's Day. Television will be full of old war movies; they've already started. I cannot watch a war movie without thinking of my grandfathers. They were both veterans of World War II. And if you're reading this, you will get to learn a little about them.

My grandpa Meadows (my dad's dad) landed on the beaches of Normandy on the second day (D-2, I think he called it). He spent the majority of his time in Germany. He was wounded - shot in the wrist during one battle. He spent several days stuck behind enemy lines, hiding out with a group of fellow soldiers. He told us once that one of the soldiers wanted to surrender and the others, grandpa included, had to fight him to keep him from running out and giving up their hiding spot. They threatened to shoot him themselves if he risked the lives of the rest of the group. He actually fought hand to hand combat with the Germans. He was that close to the enemy. When they finally were reunited with their company, he was able to write my grandma a letter. Part of it reads "... I got to eat today. I had 3 hamburgers. That is a lot for a little guy like me..." My grandpa was so little, he lived his whole life with the nickname "PeeWee." In another letter he wrote "...there are times I am so scared, I shake as though I am freezing to death. I hate this. But I am here so that little Ronnie will never have to do this..." Ronnie is my dad. He was 10 days old when Grandpa left for war. Also, included in the letters Grandpa sent back to Grandma, is the picture he had carried with him during his tour of duty. It is of Grandma and her friend in two piece bathings suits. Go Grandma!!!
Grandpa Meadows spent his post-war years working as a street superintendent in his little home town. We knew, as young children, when there was a blizzard, Grandpa would be out clearing the streets; sometimes working all night. That's what winters in Illinois are like. We always tried to look really close at the drivers when we saw a snow plow, hoping to catch a glimpse of Grandpa. When you're 5 or 6 years old, driving a snow plow in a blizzard seems heroic. Now I know he WAS heroic.

My Grandpa Johnson (my mom's dad) was a fighting Sea-Bee. He spent the war in the Phillipines. My mom was 18 months old before he met her. This grandpa left his family a great legacy. He kept a journal starting before he left for the war, up until the time he just could not manage to write anymore (around age 80). There are not a lot of entries during the war, because he was too busy fighting for his life, I guess. But just to see the journals with the dates on the spines and knowing those were from the times he was at war, is amazing to us. One entry, as he is on the troop ship heading for the Phillipines, reads "...I am too sick to die." I guess the sea sickness was excruciating and it was just like Grandpa Johnson to sum it up as briefly as he could. Grandpa Johnson returned from the war and started working in the plant at the same company where my husband works today. He worked there for 40 years as a welder before he retired. Back to the journals. Grandpa's entries during the post war years were very brief. They covered, basically, 3 things: the temperature outside, the number of fish he caught (and what lake he had fished at) and who he had visited with that day. If a grandchild happened to be born that day, he would enter it. We all got such a kick out of finding "our entry". On February 6, 1967, his journal reads "Irene had her fourth today. A girl. Heidi Irene." See, nice and brief. There are 19 entries for grand chiildren's births and 21 entries for great-granchildren's births in those journals, which after his death were divided amongst his 6 children.

My father-in-law was a medic in Korea and Vietnam. I cannot write much about his experience because, like many veterans of these eras, he does not speak of it much. But I sometimes try to imagine the horror he saw. He has seen firsthand the atrocities human beings can inflict on each other. He recently told my son something while they were watching a war movie together. He said "Blake, I fought in two wars and I saw a lot of things. Let me tell you, soldiers did not cuss as much as these movies want to make you think we did. We did not let every other word out of our mouth be the f-word or any other cuss word. I don't like that they portray us like that." Interesting. And although he is a Christian now, he wasn't when he was a young soldier.
Paul's dad served 19+ years in the Air Force before he died of cancer, when Paul was four. My brother recently retired after 21 years in the army, earning a Master's Degree in Criminal Justice while he served. So everywhere we turn, we have ties to the military.

Soon after one of my Grandpa Meadows' funeral (both of them had full military rites) we let Blake watch SAVING PRIVATE RYAN. Before we started it, I said this to him "Please remember, Blake, that this war was real. Both of your great-grandfathers fought this war, one of them where this movie is set. As bad as these scenes will be, it was much worse for your great-grandfathers and all of their fellow soldiers. Please do not allow this or any movie to glorify war for you. Remember the stories you have heard recently about your great-grandfathers and their sacrifices, their utter fear and pain. Remember that any one of these young soldiers depicted here could have been my grandfather, the father of your grandpa Ron." And I think he got it, at least as much as a boy that age could.

Thank you for reading. And now, I'm going to send my father-in-law and my brother a note and tell them Thank You.

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