As a child, my favorite holidays were of course Christmas, the Fourth of July, and Thanksgiving. Oh yeah, my own birthday was a big one, too. But, I have to confess that there were a couple of holidays that I just did not get as excited about. Memorial Day, for instance, and Veteran's Day. I just did not understand why my parents were so excited about going to see a bunch of old soldiers walk down the street in a parade, or listen to these same men, and some of their wives, make boring speeches on the courthouse lawn. Lots of other people got excited about these same things. I wonder if their children were as bored then as I was. I mean no fireworks, no big feasts, and of course, no presents!
In my teen years and even into early adulthood, while I began to understand more about why these days were special, I appreciated these holidays more because I sometimes got out of school for the parade, and because Memorial Day meant that summer vacation was just about here! Soon I would be able to spend the days out on the old dairy land, or at least spend the days just having fun, whether I made it out to the dairy or not.
Yes, I was a somewhat oblivious child as far as the meaning of Veteran's Day, but even back then, back in the Sixties, I was aware of my grandmother being worried all the time. I did not really understand her pain or fear, I just knew that she sometimes burst into tears for no reason. When a strange car would come down the little road to her house, I would see her strain to see the car's markings, or what the occupants looked like. Only later did I realize she was trying to see if there were military men inside the vehicle, for that could mean only one thing. You see, my uncle, John Snoddy, Jr, was serving at that time in a place with a really strange name: Viet Nam. Uncle Junior was a Marine...not drafted, but a volunteer to that service. And my grandmother feared the arrival of that dark green sedan that several of her neighbors had seen. Uncle Junior was in Viet Nam. Each day he was there was another day of worry for my grandmother, another gray hair, another wrinkle on her sweet face.
God only knows the pain and fear she and so many other mothers felt during the Viet Nam years. And I have no clear concept of what my uncle went through, what he experienced, the terror in which he lived every day, and yes, every night. Uncle Junior of course would not tell a little boy of the horrors and death in Viet Nam, of the sacrifices our men and women made there. Maybe he did not talk about it to anyone. I don't know. All I know is that one day he came back to his mother's house, and my grandmother cried so much, and hugged him, like the Prodigal Son. Only later have I come to realize the great joy and relief felt by my grandmother, and by so many other parents, when their children returned from a war nobody really wanted in a land no one had even heard of before. But Uncle Junior and other men and women like him answered the call to service. Even today, I cannot say what the point and purpose of the Viet Nam War might have served, I can only marvel and be so grateful for those who served there.
With maturity and understanding came the knowledge that not every soldier came home from Viet Nam. So many parents and wives had to watch that dark sedan drive slowly toward them. God help them when the car stopped at their driveway. The officers in the car did not have to say a word, really. It was obvious. This mom and dad had lost their soldier. The handshake from the officers, the letter they bore, just made it official. Their soldier was gone. How many people have gone through this shattering experience over the years? The number is not really within comprehension. But still some brave men and women have answered, and will answer, the call to serve their country while the majority of able-bodied persons choose to remain on the side.
I have seen the pictures on Facebook, the photographs of our parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts, that served with honor in two great wars, and in the many smaller conflicts that just never seem to end. But without the sacrifices those people made, it is safe to say that our country would soon cease to exist as a free nation, a shining shrine of freedom to the rest of the world. I have talked with another uncle, only briefly, who was damned proud, as he said, to have been called to serve in the Army in World War II. He, like Uncle Junior, did not talk to a little boy about the things he saw. Instead, he spoke proudly of the role the United States played in defeating Hitler, and about how proud he was of his generation. He did tell me a little of the cold he endured in Europe, but he talked more of the sacrifices his family had made at home due to all the rationing and saving that made the war effort possible. My spouse's grandfather served in Europe also, and literally came within an inch of losing his life when he was shot in the leg, the bullet just missing the artery.
Now, havin seen fifty Veteran's Days come and go, I, having never served in the military, have yet come to realize and understand (as much as one who has not been there CAN understand) what all of our soldiers have gone through. In some small way I feel their fear, their uncertainty, but also their desire to serve, and their pride in serving this nation. It is this small portion of understanding that lets me finally grasp the true meaning of Memorial Day, and of today...Veteran's Day. The men and women of our military have a fierce pride in serving their nation - which of course means YOU and ME - and a fierce and undying loyalty to Flag, and To The Republic, For Which It Stands. It is with great humbleness and gratitude that I salute today all United States veterans, both old and young, who have served this nation with the knowledge that each day they served could be their last. It is not too much trouble, as it once was, for me to stop for a moment and honor our Veterans, to stand at the street side as they march in parade, to listen to their speeches, and to just walk up and shake their hands. Because of them we still have our America, and will, for generations to come.
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