Eleventh Month, Eleventh Day, Eleventh Hour Armistice...

seems like we are in good company here on the HAMB.......thanks guys , for everything....

 

Did you go through the Jet Mech course @ Chanute?

 

I hope this is not too long. It was written by Bill Shaffer, the scoutmaster of Troop 26 in Tulsa, OK. He was my scoutmaster years ago. His parents lived in Bartlesville, OK when WWII started. His dad went into the service, became a highly decorated pilot. The Bartlesville paper ran regular articles about how he accompanied and protected bombers on their runs. But his luck ran out, and he died when his plane was shot down. Bill never met his dad, as he was born after his father's death. What he wrote this past memorial day is worth reading, in my opinion.

[FONT=&quot]Memorial Day.

A national holiday. Picnics. Ultimate frisbee. Hotdogs and burgers.
Watermelon. Softball. People headed for the lake. Little kids in
waterwings. Splashing and laughing. The grill. The backyard. Hope the
weather cooperates with our plans for Memorial Day.

People doing what they want.

At what price?

America. The superbowl of democracies. The best game in the world.
Sure, some people have better seats but you can always work hard and
upgrade. Everyone can dream about the luxury boxes. Some people have
premium parking and some take the bus. Some have to walk. Sure, some
people get too loud but the ushers handle that and protect your ability
to see the game. There is a lot of stuff to buy out in the tunnels.
You can't afford all of it but someday you might. There are two teams
playing and you can support whichever one you want. You can yell and
clap and stand and cheer. Somebody sings a song at the start of the
game and some guys walk out on the field with some flags. But you don't
have to sing. You don't even really have to stand up but most people
do. Some even take their hats off.

Its a great game, this superbowl of democracys. But as exciting as the
game is, you can't get in without buying a ticket. But in America,
we're lucky. We can walk right in because somebody else has already
paid the price of the ticket. We ought to thank them but more often
than not, we don't know their names. Out of sight, out of
mind....right? We just walk right in and participate in the superbowl
of democracy and don't give it another thought.

Today, I wonder who bought my ticket. Sure, I like hotdogs and
watermelon. I like to play horseshoes and football and softball. But I
want to know who bought my ticket. You don't get anything in this world
for nothing and I have a lot to be thankful for. Who paid? Who made it
possible? Who bought the ticket for me?

Was it a guy at Concord and Lexington. A guy who really wanted to be a
farmer but decided to get his rifle down off the wall above the
fireplace because he believed in a new idea for his children. Did he
stand there in the street, watching the most powerful army in the world
walking towards him, dressed in bright red with flags flying, pipes
playing, sunlight gleaming off the tips of thousands of bayonets? Was
he scared? Did he think of his family as he fell?

Was it a guy in 1812? Watching from across the road as the White House
burned. Do you think he wanted to keep this grand idea of democracy
alive a little longer so that his children could live in freedom. Do
you think he wondered if these men dressed in red coats would ever leave
him alone to raise his family in peace?

Was it a guy who watched his brother fall at Gettysburg? Was he scared
too? Did he cry when the man next to him fell? Did he think about
running when the officer he respected was blown off the horse he was
riding? Did he have a wife? Did he have a son? Was his last thought
of them?

Was it a guy in World War I? Lying scared in a trench. Waiting for the
signal to get up and run towards an unseen enemy who was right at that
very minute pointing a gun in his direction. Do you think he thought
about his childhood in Alabama or Texas or Maryland? Do you think he
might have liked watermelon?

Was it a guy in World War II? A guy who watched as some Americans on a
distant hill struggled to raise a beautiful red, white, and blue flag
amid a hail of bullets from an enemy who was dedicated to destroying
this grand idea Americans had grown to love.

Was it a guy in Korea? Charging up Pork Chop Hill and taking it, then
losing it, then taking it again.

A hill. A man giving his life for a hill. Anybody know where Pork Chop
Hill is? Or that street in Lexington? Or that trench in France?
Anybody visited Bataan lately or visited Normandy? Anybody vacationed
at the spot where Douglas MacArthur stepped out of the boat when he
returned to the Philippines? Or the spot where George Washington got in
the boat to cross the Deleware. Anybody watch the people playing
frizbee with their dog at Valley Forge and give a single thought to the
men who froze there for this grand idea. Anybody head for the local
picnic ground and drive past the silent fields of Gettysburg. The
gentle breeze and the calls of songbirds in the lush forests are all
that remain of the place where blood ran like rivers, where men in blue
and men in gray lay side by side in death.

Was it a guy in Viet Nam? A guy who left his family to fight a war
nobody liked. A guy who shed a tear as he was pushed in a wheelchair
through an airport lobby, listening as people laughed and pointed at
him, flinching as a hippy stepped up and spit on him, the spit landing
on the spot where his leg used to be.

Was it a guy in Desert Storm or Desert Shield. A guy standing in a
place whose name he couldn't pronounce. A place covered in sand. A
place where death could come in the form of a child.

Was it a guy who rode the first tank into the Nazi death camps? Was it
a guy who watched General Lee sign the surrender at Appomattox? Was it
a guy who watched the Japanese sign their surrender on the deck of one
of America's war ships? Was it a guy who found the leader of Iraq
cowering in a hole after being responsible for the deaths of millions of
his own countrymen? I wonder if those countrymen dreamed of America.
Was it a guy who walked home to the farm from the Battle of Lexington,
put his rifle back up on its place above the mantle, picked up his
little son, and stood on his porch, looking at a land that was free for
another day.

Who bought my ticket? Who made it possible for me to chose my path in
life? Who made it possible for me to live in a country without fear? I
want to know. Before I eat that hotdog or throw that frizbee. Before I
head for the lake. I want to know.

And I want other Americans to wonder too. I want Republicans and
Democrats to wonder who bought their tickets. I want the Dallas Cowboys
and the New York Yankees to wonder who bought their tickets. I want the
Dixie Chicks to wonder who paid for their tickets.

As we see all those little men with their VFW hats on with all their
medals and pins, proudly displayed on bodies with missing limbs ,
wrinkles and liver spots, I want Americans to wonder how many tickets
they bought. Those little men with tears on their faces as they
remember fallen comrads and places with funny names where they left
their youth, I want Americans to look at them and wonder about the
tickets they bought. I want Americans to look at these little men and
remember them as the giants they once were. And when we see Arlington
Cemetary and the places in France where the white crosses stand in row
after row as far as the eye can see, we should all think of the men and
women who paid the ultimate price for a ticket.

When I have taken the time to think of these men and women, when I have
taken the time to think of the price they paid for my ticket, when I
think of the families and children that they left behind to live in a
land that is safe and free, when I think of all those little boys who
were never coached by their dad or had their dads see them hit a home
run or score a touchdown, when I think of all those little girls whose
mothers will never see them in their wedding dress or see the birth of
their grandbaby, when I think of all those men and women in uniform who
left their families to go to foreign shores in search of my ticket,
when I stop what I am doing and celebrate the gift of freedom and
remember the people who gave that gift to me.....
then.....and only then......will I eat that hotdog on Memorial Day.

Thanks Dad! Thanks for my ticket.

Bill Shaffer
Memorial Day, 2006[/FONT]

 

arkie...great read, I'll be passing that off to some of my sailors.

LT USN Helo jocky here, splashed 1, crashed 1 and still spinnin the rotors.

Me pop: EW2 USN Vietnam
me granddad: Frogman USN WWII Korea granada and a bunch of other crap
ME other granddad: Enlisted pilot USN WWII

 

Thank you so much for serving my beloved country. Thanks for knocking out that liberty and freedom, I use it every day. This Veteran's Day I am also raising a glass to my great uncle Charles Ray Rummel, captured in North Africa in WWII, my grandfather Stephen Prebosnyak, tank commander in Patton's army and my Dad, John R. Scarborough, U.S. Navy, UDT 21, 1963-1968 patrolled the Mekong delta behind a .50 cal.

James

Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you:

1. Jesus Christ
2. The American G. I.

One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.

 

U.S.M.C
Viet Nam Vet
1968-1969
1st.Mar.Div.
VMA-242
DaNang & Marble Mtn. HOORAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Once A Marine always a Marine.......

 

US Army
1968-1971
11B
173rd

 

Sure did the 3352nd in 81, they had a great static display of aircraft there.

Dawg

 

I love this country.

 

Don't forget that this is a sacred moment for all of the allied armed forces that fought back then. Yesterday (our 11/11) all of our junior cricket teams that play in the morning broke for a tribute in silence, and ALL complied. Very stirring moment.

 

I went into the Melbourne Shrine of Remembrance for the service. It is a VERY big day here in Oz, second only to ANZAC day. No other country (Yes even the US) takes the time to remembers they who fought and gave all like Australia.

 

I was in the 3353rd. They pulled out some of the aircraft since they shut down the base but there's still a few around.

 

I'm glad to hear that your vets are getting the respect they deserve. Way too many people in the US seem to have no respect at all for what the vets have done for them. It's pretty disgusting at times.

 

US Navy 1967-1971 ASE2 VR-30,1968-1970
DaNang Airbase, Navy Fleet Air Suoort Unit 1970-1971

 

God Bless every man/woman who has served this country -- we all owe you so much and I deeply respect the sacrifices of those who have served --- and the loses that they, their families, friends and communities have endured.

Thank you, thank you, thank you -- I salute you all.

DAV Help:

For those of you who have a few $$$ to spare -- consider the Disabled American Verterans (DAV). They are a great organization and help many people. The US has over 10,000 severely injured Vets coming home from Iraq - and tens of thousands more from too many wars who have fought, served with honor and need help.

http://www.dav.org/

Dale

 

This is a picture of my grandfather, taken just before he went to France at the start of WWI. He was a professional soldier in the cavalry when WWI started and sneaked on board the transport to go to France as he was officially to young to go into combat. He was the last man alive to have taken part in the very first action involving British troops in WWI. This book was written about his experiences shortly before he died in 1990. He was a cavalryman in the 4th/7th Irish Dragoons and took part in the BEF's first action at Casteau in 1914 and two days later had his horse shot out from under him in the famous cavalry charge of the 4th Dragoons and 9th Lancers at Audregnie. He took part in every major battle on the western Front except the battle of Loo's and was wounded twice and ended up in Cologne with the army of occupation in 1919. A remarkable man, later window cleaner by appointment to HRH the Queen as he cleaned the windows at Windsor castle! Unusual for someone of my age I guess to have had a grandfather who fought in WWI considering I'm only 40.


My other grandfather fought in the desert and italy in WWII.

Because of this Remeberance day is very special to me.

 

Thanks to all, past, present and future.

As George Orwell wrote, "We sleep safe in our beds, because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would harm us."

And thanks to all, who haven't forgotten we're still out there. Sleep well friends.

I'm coming home with my sheild, or on it.

SPC. Daniel Horndasch
209th RCAG SECFOR
Camp Mike Spann
Mazar-I-Sharif, Afghanistan

 

Thank you to everyone

Semper Fi

Once a Marine always a Marine!

 

your father and my grandfather chewed a LOT of the same sand together.

 

ANZAC day is just starting to get the recognition it deserves. Though if you were not a Vet of WWI, II or Viet Nam we still get a very hard time.
Being an SF vet of recent conflicts I still get spat on and abused on a regular basis if I wear anything indicating my service.
When I was still in the Army (Untill sep 03) we were not permitted to wear uniform off base due to the trouble it caused.
We younger guys are seeing on a very limited basis what the Viet-Nam vets expierienced.
Australian society has a LONG way to come before service men and women get any respect at all. I guess in 30 years we may see the acceptance the Viet Nam vets have finaly recieved (Still no where near enough) though Im not holding my breath nor expecting to be around by then.

 

I know what it means. I'm eternally indebted to those who served this country's call. God bless you all.
Seems traditional Hot Rodders ought to flock to these posts as it was VFWs who nearly created the hobby/lifestyle. High deserts crawling with Flyboys in High-boys.

 

I joined a week after 9/11 to do my part, just got out in March. Thanks to all who have served and to all who are still serving!
Air Force SrA Jackson 463 AMXS C-130 Aircraft Maintenance Crew Chief
And my Dad, Vietnam Vet Army Combat Engineer

 

Thanks to all that served and the sacrifice you have made! SALUTE!

TM2(SS) Torpedomans Mate, USN
USS Ashevelle, SSN-758

My dad (I love ya!)
P. Taylor
Sgt., USMC

Grandfather: (We will miss you!)
Leroy Pratt
Sgt. US Army
WWII, 1st wave, Utah Beach; Normandy Landings, Battle of the Buldge

A side note: Its unbelievable the garbage the US Serviceman have gotten and still get. Its appalling (sp) to know they sacrificed thier lives and/or time to help protect this great country of ours. And you know what, most people just done have a clue to what we have over everyone else; that goes the same to the politicians who took an oath to protect and serve the citizens of the country. Its a shame.

 

Amen Chopped50

me and me pop were just talking bout' the same very thing....his response, "ya'll are going through the same shit we went through in nam...." I dont nessecarily think that drastically, I never got spit on etc but he does have a point....

 

Yeah, I hear you guys, I served from 68 to 72, probably the worst time in history to be in uniform from a respect standpoint. I am proud to have served, but it was without a doubt the most confusing period of my life, to be on base as a medic and see the aftermath of war, then to leave the base at night in my car with my shirt and hat off so the protesters outside the gate or anyone else couldn't recognize me as a part of the military and the finest group of people I've ever known. I lived off base, and it was like 2 different worlds, it's a hard thing to try to figure out at such a young age. Then when you get home, you find that even your old friends have turned on you, and while you were gone, they went through college (probably where they got their heads filled with shit) and got good jobs, and your just trying to get your life started and wondering if you should even tell prospective employers that you were even in the military for fear that they won't hire you. Sorry for the rant, just brought up some old feelings.
I hope that this country NEVER treats these fine people serving today they way they treated us back then, it was disgraceful!

 

I can't tell you how disappointed I am to hear this, I honestly thought that the ozzies were much more like the US in their appreciation of their armed forces. The kiwis maybe, but not the ozzies. FWIW, I appreciate what you have done, we aren't isolated by oceans anymore, let alone borders. So please accept my heartfelt thanks for your service Doc, if ever I saw someone do that to you, I'd fuck them up like Borat got in NYC. (check the news)

 

Thanks guys, I guess some people need to learn that we are not the bad guys.

 

Awesome post didn't see it this weekend was at my units ball ceremony. LCPL Paul M Stroker Co."C" 6th ESB UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS. Operation Iraqi Freedom II veteran, happy birthday fellow jarheads and happy veterans day to all