Wester,
Your eloquence is a hard act to follow. A few True Heroes found a
special place in my heart long before they departed. Some even found their
way in by the way they lived out their lives before I was born.
In remembrance of:
John Smith, who was my mom's "other brother John" while growing up. He
died a hero in the cockpit of the P-51 known as Seton 3 a few years before I
was born, bravely defending Allied bombers enroute to Germany. An only
child, he wrote to my mom during the war that he wanted more than anything to
be a favorite uncle to her firstborn. He's always been my "other Uncle
John".
The unknown soldier-hero who stepped in front of a bullet aimed at my
dad's chest, on the beach head at Anzio.
All the brave men who stood their ground until they fell on the shores of
Normandy, and Anzio, and on the banks of the frozen Chosin, and the Mekong
Delta
And, last but by no means the least, all the moms and dads, and fiancees
and girlfriends and wives, in every war, who died a little everytime one of
those horrible telegrams arrived, or a staff car pulled into the driveway
bearing a chaplain filled with regret.
Mark Childers (navy)
Virginia Beach VA
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