You see, he may have been killed in September of '44, but he left for the Marines the day after my Mom was born two years before that. Her birthday happens to be on or around Memorial Day. Saw my mom, left for the Marines the next day.
Lots of memorable things to remember around this time. Memorial Day was also the time I reported to this current job over a decade ago. Well, the day after. And four years ago, Memorial Day, was my last cigarette. I think it was four. I am not sure. I am sure it was Memorial Day.
I am indeed fortunate I don't have anything closer to me than a fallen grandfather to remember this day. Other folks aren't so lucky.
2 comments:
You were fortunate to be able to get his service records.
Millions of them were lost forever in the fire at the records repository in St. Louis in 1973.
The communications men were the bravest of the brave. They worked in front of the front, going on their bellies from hole to hole, dragging a spool of wire with a Kabar or a .45 in one hand.
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