11 Days Before We Head to Wisconsin

Today is Memorial Day. To most it is has been reduced in significance to a three-day weekend where we picnic or race off to some lake somewhere to vacation. I watched President Bush speak this morning on TV. He was speaking at Arlington National Cemetary. After he spoke, I remembered an email that my father sent me last year in commemoration of Veteran's Day. I thought I'd share because although today is not Veteran's Day it is Memorial Day. And so, my father wrote:

Hi Everyone--

Today is "Veteran's Day" according to the calendar. Some of us remember a time when it was called "Armistice Day." When I was in elementary school, we all stood beside our desks in the classroom and faced the east for a moment of silence at 11:00 a.m. on November 11th. Church bells tolled and the steam whistle sounded at the local chair factory. We were remembering the "Armistice" that marked the end of World War I at the 11th hour of the 11th day in November 1918, in a railroad car in the Ardennes Forest of France. It was there that the Imperial German Army surrendered to the Allied forces led by General John "Black Jack" Pershing and an Armistice was declared. After four long years of bloody conflict, World War I had come to an end. World War II, the Korean War, and Vietnam have all occurred since that time, making the word "Armistice" meaningless, and so today we remember all of our fallen service men and women on this Veteran's Day.

Jimmy Blong, who played center on our high school football team, and was shot down over Germany. Mike Kratzer, who went through basic training with me at Fort Benning, Georgia, and was killed in action in France. Dick Altendorf, who graduated in my high school class of 1942, and survived the war, only to fall victim to severe depression and mental illness, an aftermath of fierce fighting and heavy casualties in the infantry.

I thought today of these men and others at the Memorial Service held at our clubhouse here in MacDonald Ranch. The Las Vegas Brass Band played for the occasion, a wonderful program of Sousa marches, vintage music from the 1940s and topped off with the theme music of each branch of the service. As they played "over hill, over dale, we will hit the dusty trail..." those of us who had served in the U.S. Army were asked to stand and be recognized. It was then that I thought of those friends and comrades that did not return and of my experiences in World War II.

Love,

Dad / Grandpa

For the first time my father sent to each of his children and grandchildren an account of his war years that he wrote in 1997. I have tried to edit the original document to remove any mention of my father's name or that of family members. This is a blog and some information shouldn't be shared. Double click on the highlighted War Years for a memorable read on this Memorial Day. It is a Word Document that you will have to prompt to open. Thank you Dad for sharing and for you service to our country.