BE SURE AND THANK A VETERAN TODAY

Thank a VETERAN today for your freedom.
Learn more about Veterans Day here.

I received this as an email (again – it’s made the rounds a few times!) just before Veterans Day and while I believe there is a non-violent way to get your point across, I’m also a military wife and daily astounded by the ignorance of those around me, adults and children, of their understanding of how this country was founded and still works. Here’s the email:

Dear Civilians,
We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation has many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military. For those of you who can’t join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:

  1. The next time you see any adults talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem – kick their ass. (It is these adults who should be setting the example for the children of the next generation in regards to paying respect.)
  2. When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest – kick their ass.
  3. Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.
  4. (GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs) or Jungle Fatigues, telling others that you used to be ‘Special Forces,’ and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.
  5. Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, ‘Do you fly a jet?’ Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).
  6. If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard ‘non-military’, inform them of their mistake – and kick their ass.
  7. Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your damn feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her – of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.
  8. Don’t try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran. We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn’t know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet; all we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out… If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!
  9. ‘Your mama wears combat boots.’ never made sense to me – stop saying It! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore could kick your ass!
  10. Bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying ‘Let’s go kill those Commies!’ And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me – if you see anyone calling those damn psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass!
  11. ‘Flyboy’ (Air Force), ‘Jarhead’ (Marines), ‘Doggie’ (Army), ‘Squid’ (Navy), ‘Puddle Jumpers’ (Coast Guard), etc…, are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. Using them could get your ass kicked.
  12. If you ever see anyone either standing for or singing the national anthem in Spanish – KICK THEIR ASS.
  13. If you got this email and didn’t pass it on – guess what – you deserve to get your ass kicked!
  14. Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get it’s ‘ass kicked.’

‘It’s the Veteran, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. ‘It’s the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.’
‘It’s the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.’

‘It’s the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.’

If you were offended by any of this and are not a veteran then you have an overinflated sense of entitlement and should reevaluate your beliefs and values.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

BE SURE AND THANK A VETERAN TODAY

Thank a VETERAN today for your freedom.
Learn more about Veterans Day here.

The Sack Lunches

I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. ‘I’m glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap,’ I thought.

Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation. ‘Where are you headed?’ I asked the soldier seated nearest to me. ‘Chicago – to Great Lakes Base. We’ll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we’re being deployed to Iraq ‘

After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached Chicago, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time. As I reached for my wallet, I overheard soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. ‘No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn’t be worth five bucks. I’ll wait till we get to Chicago ‘ His friend agreed.

I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. ‘Take a lunch to all those soldiers.’ She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. ‘My son was a soldier in Iraq; it’s almost like you are doing it for him.’

Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated.. She stopped at my seat and asked, ‘Which do you like best – beef or chicken?’ ‘Chicken,’ I replied, wondering why she asked. She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. ‘This is your thanks.’

After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. ‘I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.’ He handed me twenty-five dollars. Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, an said, ‘I want to shake your hand.’ Quickly unfastening my seat belt I stood and took the Captain’s hand. With a booming voice he said, ‘I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.’ I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.

Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm. When we landed in Chicago I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!

Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. ‘It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.’ Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals.

It seemed so little…

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life wrote a blank check Made payable to ‘The United States of America ‘ for an amount of ‘up to and including my life.’ That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.’

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

CEMETERY WATCHMAN – IN HONOR OF VETERANS DAY

My friend Kevin and I are volunteers at a National cemetery in Oklahoma and put in a few days a month in a ‘slightly larger’ uniform. Today had been a long, long day and I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey’s and have a cold one. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 16:55. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever–the heat and humidity at the same level–both too high.

I saw the car pull into the drive, ’69 or ’70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail’s pace.. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers–about four or five bunches as best I could tell.

I couldn’t help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: ‘She’s going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I’m ready to get out of here right now!’ But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.

Kevin would lock the ‘In’ gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey’s in time.

I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.

I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman’s squint.

‘Ma’am, may I assist you in any way?’

She took long enough to answer.

‘Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.’

‘My pleasure, ma’am.’ (Well, it wasn’t too much of a lie.)

She looked again. ‘Marine, where were you stationed?’

‘ Vietnam , ma’am.. Ground-pounder. ’69 to ’71.’

She looked at me closer. ‘Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

I lied a little bigger: ‘No hurry, ma’am.’

She smiled and winked at me. ‘Son, I’m 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off.. Let’s get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name’s Joanne Wieserman, and I’ve a few Marines I’d like to see one more time.’

‘Yes, ma ‘am. At your service.’

She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flower bunches out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn’t quite make out.. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.

She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.

She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944..

She paused for a second and more tears flowed. ‘Two more, son, and we’ll be done’

I almost didn’t say anything, but, ‘Yes, ma’am. Take your time.’

She looked confused.. ‘Where’s the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.’

I pointed with my chin. ‘That way, ma’am.’

‘Oh!’ she chuckled quietly. ‘Son, me and old age ain’t too friendly.’

She headed down the walk I’d pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn’t make out and more tears flowed.

‘OK, son, I’m finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.’

Yes, ma’am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?’

She paused. ‘Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all Marines.’

She stopped! Whether she had finished, or couldn’t finish, I don’t know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully. I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.

‘Get to the ‘Out’ gate quick.. I have something I’ve got to do.’

Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rulesto get us there down the service road fast. We beat her. She hadn’t made it around the rotunda yet.

‘Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.’ I humped it across the drive to the other post

When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny’s voice: ‘TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!’

I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye–full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud. She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice far beyond the realm of most.

I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.

Instead of ‘The End,’ just think of ‘Taps. ‘

As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: ‘Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.’

Let’s all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.

‘In God We Trust.’

Sorry about your monitor; it made mine blurry too!

If we ever forget that we’re one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under!
aprons 3

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Be sure and THANK a Veteran Today

Thank a VETERAN today for your freedom.
Learn more about Veterans Day here.

The Sack Lunches
I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. ‘I’m glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap,’ I thought.

Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation. ‘Where are you headed?’ I asked the soldier seated nearest to me. ‘Chicago – to Great Lakes Base. We’ll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we’re being deployed to Iraq ‘

After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached Chicago, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time. As I reached for my wallet, I overheard soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. ‘No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn’t be worth five bucks. I’ll wait till we get to Chicago ‘ His friend agreed.

I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. ‘Take a lunch to all those soldiers.’ She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. ‘My son was a soldier in Iraq; it’s almost like you are doing it for him.’

Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated.. She stopped at my seat and asked, ‘Which do you like best – beef or chicken?’ ‘Chicken,’ I replied, wondering why she asked. She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. ‘This is your thanks.’

After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. ‘I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.’ He handed me twenty-five dollars. Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, an said, ‘I want to shake your hand.’ Quickly unfastening my seat belt I stood and took the Captain’s hand. With a booming voice he said, ‘I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.’ I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.

Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm. When we landed in Chicago I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!

Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. ‘It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.’ Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals.

It seemed so little…

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life wrote a blank check Made payable to ‘The United States of America ‘ for an amount of ‘up to and including my life.’ That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.’

final blog signature.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Thursday 13 on Tuesday in honor of Veterans Day

I received this as an email just before Veterans Day and while I believe there is a non-violent way to get your point across, I’m also a military wife and daily astounded by the ignorance of those around me, adults and children, of their understanding of how this country was founded and still works. Here’s the email:

Dear Civilians,

‘We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation has many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military. For those of you who can’t join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:

  1. The next time you see any adults talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem – kick their ass. (It is these adults who should be setting the example for the children of the next generation in regards to paying respect.)
  2. When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest – kick their ass.
  3. Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.
  4. (GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs) or Jungle Fatigues, telling others that you used to be ‘Special Forces,’ and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.
  5. Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, ‘Do you fly a jet?’ Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).
  6. If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard ‘non-military’, inform them of their mistake – and kick their ass.
  7. Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your damn feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her – of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.
  8. Don’t try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran. We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn’t know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet; all we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out… If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!
  9. ‘Your mama wears combat boots.’ never made sense to me – stop saying It! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore could kick your ass!
  10. Bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying ‘Let’s go kill those Commies!’ And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me – if you see anyone calling those damn psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass!
  11. ‘Flyboy’ (Air Force), ‘Jarhead’ (Marines), ‘Doggie’ (Army), ‘Squid’ (Navy), ‘Puddle Jumpers’ (Coast Guard), etc…, are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. Using them could get your ass kicked.
  12. If you ever see anyone either standing for or singing the national anthem in Spanish – KICK THEIR ASS.
  13. If you got this email and didn’t pass it on – guess what – you deserve to get your ass kicked!
  14. Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get it’s ‘ass kicked.’
‘It’s the Veteran, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.

‘It’s the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.’

‘It’s the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.’

‘It’s the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.’

If you were offended by any of this and are not a veteran then you have an overinflated sense of entitlement and should reevaluate your beliefs and values.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...