Another Veterans Day - what ever happened to….
It is that time again. The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. The time on the calendar when we pay tribute to our nation’s veterans. I’m not sure what I want to write about today. There will be pomp and circumstance - tributes and speeches. Solemn silence.
I’ve written veterans day posts before - that we should honor veterans and others everyday, ceremonies like the local D-Day anniversary, reminded everyone about my grandfather and how he earned his citizenship.
Today, I’m writing about the quiet contacts and connections that shape you - If not then; now.
For some reason today, my mind wanders back to the memory of a friend’s father. Lou was a mountain of a man - WWII vet, Normandy, 2nd Infantry Division. His son and I were quite close until geographical separation and time took its toll. Still, I met the father a couple of times, actually went out to visit AZ as part of some grand reunion many many years ago. I wonder why the thought of this man, who I only met a couple of times, always brings a smile to my face.
Stlo4 is due a phone call - an overdue call I might add. Seems our reunion in Austin was just yesterday.
I wonder about all the soldiers that I served with throughout my career. My first platoon sergeant who did his duty and trained me. My soldiers and fellow lieutenants.
When I was a Company Commander, I had my own driver. Jerry and I used to argue about football and all things Texas. My clerk Sheila was young teenage mom and sharp as a tack. She was on a path for success I wonder how she is. My first Sergeant, my Lieutenants, the various bosses and peers I had.
My stlo moniker comes from my time in 2AD. That time was the closest I have been to other human beings in my life. There was a mental bond that continues to this day. How are they doing?
One of the great jobs I had was training foreign officers. What ever happened to the lieutenant from Swaziland (how many of you have met someone from Swaziland)? The Colonel from Ghana, the Major from Bangladesh. The mix of Jordanians, Israelis, Saudis and Moroccan I taught.
Then there were deployments - The British Officers I shared mess with - eating off of china. The British trooper who knocked me into next week during a “friendly” rugby match. The German Doctor who patched me up. The RSM (Regimental Sergeant Major) whose name I’ve long forgotten help me into my fighting position since I couldn’t walk.
When I do allow my mind to wander back in time - there is usually a smile that reflects the positive interactions I had with them and the little pieces of them I carry forward to this day.
So, today I’m wandering back in time, thanking each of them for their gifts to me and wishing each of them well.
stlo out
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