Today for the first time, I’ll be attending a Memorial Day Parade. I don’t honestly know why I’ve never been to one before. My father is an invited guest and honoree in Rio Vista, California. As a decorated World War II Veteran, I’ve been hearing about this war for a lifetime. However, it wasn’t until I had sons of my own that I could understand the enormity of what affect that must have had on my dad, only 19 at the time.
He was in the Army, an infantryman with the Fighting First, also known as the Big Red One. He fought at Normandy, on the second day of the invasion, rather than the first day. Which is probably I’m even here to write this now. A recipient of a purple heart and two bronze stars, just three years ago he was decorated again with the French Legion of Honor Medal.
My husband was a Marine during Vietnam. What a different war, and a vastly different attitude those at home had for returning soldiers. The contrast is staggering. But we must not fail to forget, these soldiers too answered the call of their country, and for that I am very proud of him.
And now, a member of the third generation of our family is serving. Our youngest son joined the Army last November, now stationed at Ft. Bliss in Texas. The changes in him even this early in his term are profound. Of course, like all parents, we worry about where he’ll eventually be stationed. As an infantryman he will probably at some point due time overseas. For now, he’s stateside in a non-deployed unit, which gives us a sense of relief.
For all of the men and women who have served in time of war or times of peace, I thank you.
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