On my day job, I deal with the public. One of the most interesting things about that kind of job is the variety of people I meet. At work yesterday, I saw an old man with his Grandchildren. He was wearing a cap with the words WWII Veteran. I approached him and reached out my hand. As he took my hand, I thanked him for his service, and for being one of my childhood hero’s. I explained that the WWII vets were the reason I dreamed as a child to be a soldier someday. His eyes brightened, he gave me a trembling smile beneath a tear, and in that moment I could almost see a little of what his eyes must have seen as he told me he was in the Battle of the Bulge (16 December 1944 to 25 January 1945.) I’m in my late 50’s now, but I take comfort knowing super hero’s still walk among us. It is humbling to stand before them for their days are growing shorter. Soon the honor of being in their presence will be but a tale to be told.
I retired from the Army National Guard after 20 years of service in December of 2014. I’ve got my share of years served overseas, and I’ve seen a lot, but I’ve seen nor endured anything compared to our World War II heroes. Hell has anybody?