Growing up with a veteran was something I never took for granted. My Dad fought in WWII. 103rd Infantry Division - Army. I remember interviewing my Dad about his service as a project for school when it came to learning about someone that played a big part of my life. My Dad was my hero, and still is. When it came to days of remembrance, like Veterans Day, I seemed to notice a more somber side of my Dad and being so young, I never really put much thought into it. Well, that was until I got older, I learned a little more that increased my appreciation for things. You see, I never experienced death because of war like my Dad did, nor have I ever stepped forward into the line of fire.
Looking back, I wondered why my Dad was so intrigued with the History Channel on TV. Watching recorded accounts of a war long past was something I never shown interest in. I would figure that fighting a war would be the last thing that you would want to remember, but I do know that it is something that you never forget. Witnessing such violence towards people that become your family away from family scars a person. Little did I know, it was something my Dad held close to his heart because even though he was blessed to return home from his tour of duty, he had a hard time dealing with the fact that his own brother died fighting in the same war. You see, back then, people did not willingly enlist to fight in a war. They were drafted. Now, my Dad being the eldest of two boys was the one selected for the draft to fight in the war. His brother, being younger than him was not drafted, but was determined to take part. After getting permission from their mother, he was able to enlist and join the fight. Even though it was in the best interest to keep his brother behind because if my father was to never return, there would still be a son to carry on the family name. That alone should have been reason to not go willingly into war, but my uncle did not see that as the deciding factor to stay behind. The odds of returning home were 50/50. In my Dad's case, that rang true. Two boys went to war and only one returned. Yes, I am saddened that I had an uncle that I would never get to know, but blessed that my father returned because... without him... I would have never existed.
The appreciation for those who served comes from my Dad. That interview I did on him, oh so many years ago, taught me much more than I could have ever learned in a classroom. There was no glamour in war. Fear and determination was the driving force to trudge forward, but it was those back at home that made their efforts worth it. Fighting in a war was never just about them. It was about protecting the ones they loved. For love of country, its people and the freedoms that every person holds dear. Their faith in God was the cornerstone to keep strong, swift and safe. People willingly sacrificed their lives to protect others. No, they never desired to be labeled heroes, but they had the blood of heroes running through their veins. Without them fighting for us and the greater good, we would have far less freedoms to appreciate. Sadly, we tend to not really see the the greatness of those liberties that we have bestowed upon us. The whole concept of things we take for granted is more common than we think. Well at least we have that one day to take pause, reflect and be thankful for those heroes that never saw them as anything other than equals.... Veterans Day.
Veterans Day is just one day to most, but for me it is an everyday thing because of my Dad. I am thankful for him well beyond his service to this country. I am thankful that he was my Dad. 10 years have passed since his death. He knew things beyond what others seem to know and I learned so much from him. He experienced things that we would never want to experience and he appreciated every moment of his life. As like all those that survived the strife of battle, those who perished, and those who answered the call the enlist that still believe in this great nation.... for the love of man, woman, child and country.... they never saw themselves as heroes, but I do. My Dad was a hero and that is all that matters to me..... What about you?
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