3 young men from St. Joe, suddenly thrust, like so many, into the harsh 'real world' beyond that safe small town.
Dad served in North Africa then here and there in the Middle East. Uncle Jim, the eldest and a brilliant self taught chap, served in Texas, where he helped build better planes and taught pilots how to use the latest advances. Uncle Joe, well he picked up some Italian on his journey, and got home way before his brothers, owing to working behind enemy lines laying out methods of communication for the Allies.
None of them ever said much about the war. Two of the three, like many of their contemporaries, developed drinking problems that pretty much assured they would endure lifetimes of failures. The world didn't consider PTSD, and only the horribly 'shell shocked' ever got any real consideration for treatment. But they were all 3 really smart fellows, and they did not have sudden attacks of bone spurs. They knew the job that needed doing. They did the job, and the women took a lot of work on their shoulders here at home.
My grandpa was one of 5 sons born to an Irish-American woman made of steel. Three of them suffered the effects of mustard gas for the rest of their lives. The end of that war came just as my grandpa's draft notice came in the mail. He was the second youngest of the 5 and it took time for his number to come up.
As for my contemporaries, well I don't go to high school reunions. There would be too many empty chairs owing to a war in Southeast Asia. But I think of them. I think of them all, from all those wars, and am grateful for their courage and honor. "Thank you for your service"? No, thank you for our freedom. Now it's our turn to square our shoulders and defend this country from enemies insidious and domestic.
The flag is up at my house. But it's quiet around here today. I wish I had stories from Dad and my uncles, but those guys just dug in and did what their tall bearded uncle, the one in the flashy red, white, and blue suit asked of them. The world was saved. Now, I cry at the number of people who don't vote, who won't pay attention, who are having their 'Happy Memorial Day' BBQs
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