@REALStaceyDash My dad (on r) left Georgetown U day aft Pearl Harbor flew support DDay and Bttle Bulge #DDay70 #hero pic.twitter.com/jI0nuLdDtI
— KCTex (@caljv) June 6, 2014
@REALStaceyDash My dad (on r) left Georgetown U day aft Pearl Harbor flew support DDay and Bttle Bulge #DDay70 #hero pic.twitter.com/jI0nuLdDtI
— KCTex (@caljv) June 6, 2014
14 comments:
Love Stacey. Not only beautiful but compassionate and smart.
A lot of guys like that.
My great-uncle was a bomber captain which isn't D-Day specifically but definitely a life-risking contribution. He didn't share a lot when I spent time around him growing up and by the time I got interested in hearing more and he was beginning to share, he died. The stories I heard (or rather overheard) were incredible.
My Dad
Horror squared is what he saw.
Then he came back from the war,
Put it behind him, shut that door.
Why speak about it? What for?
Except...when we watched Victory At Sea together
I felt it in him, something that would never untether.
My grandfather on my mom's side --he was a Seabee in Japan during WWII.
No combat, just reconstruction.
During WWII my father was in the Army artillery. He landed in India and with the aid of mules to haul the guns, his unit walked all the way to China.
This story is a great example of why the invasion was successful.
Wiki estimates that during WWII the total civilian and military deaths across the world were 50-80 million. Along with combat deaths many others died from disease and famine. Five million died while prisoners of war.
That's a lot of death in about the same amount of time Sgt Bergdahl spent learning how not to piss off his Taliban captors.
Speaking of transformation... are we? The other day I was looking for flowers to implement plan C when among the flowers at Target, a place I never go, I noticed a HUGE and visually striking yellow and black butterfly moving its wings mechanically, the likes of which I had not seen before. I was mesmerized. It was too perfect, too big, to unusual for Colorado to be real. It had to be mechanical. How clever. Then it lifted off and fluttered away.
Turns out, they do belong here.
My father was a Korean War vet. My grandfather was too young for WWI and too old for WWII. My GGrandfather wasn't in any wars either. My GGGrandfather was in the Civil War. My GGGGrandfather had nine sons in the Civil War. My GGGGrandfather came to America from Europe to escape war.
My Grandfather was a navy man, served in WWII but was in the Pacific.
If he were still alive, he would be disgusted about the direction this country has taken.
On an unrelated note,the nice thing about the internet is even when people delete their comments, there is this thing called screen shots.
"Not only beautiful but compassionate and smart."
There is no lack of that around this blog.
My dad was on an LST in the Pacific when the bomb was dropped.I owe my birth to Harry Truman. My uncle Bob was a tail gunner on a B-25, shot down and rescued in the Mediterranean. My uncle Jim was wounded on Guadalcanal. My uncle Bill was in the Marines. My uncle Glenn served under Patton, fought up the boot of Italy. He claimed the Germans had a gun that could shoot around corners. I grew up with War Stories.
All but my Dad and my uncle Jim are gone now.
Tears
My dad and four of his five brothers were drafted. Uncle Jim, the oldest served in Korea, and my Dad, the second youngest of the five served in Nam. My dad received his draft notice after he enlisted and didn't go to Nam until some 11 years later.
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