My Tie To "The Greatest Generation"

On May 16, 1945, my father joined the United States Marine Corp. 62 years to the day, I had the good fortune to go along with him as he visited the VA Hospital in Syracuse. This was the first time he'd had anything to do with the VA since he'd been discharged for the second time in September of 1951.

When Dad had been called back for Korea, it turned out he should not have been called back up - for a couple of reasons.

First, as part of the "inactive" reserves, he should not have been called back, the "active" reserves should have been. Eventually, President Truman figured that out and told the brass at the Pentagon to send Dad and his fellow "inactives" home.

Dad had not been totally inactive, as I was born at Camp Lejune in August of 1951.

The second reason he should not have been called back up was due, in a somewhat convoluted fashion, to the fact that he had violated one of the precepts of military conduct that probably began thousands of years before the Romans:

Never volunteer for anything!

At the age of 17, Dad had first landed on Guam after the island had been secured, but did participate in mop-up operations against the more recalcitrant Japanese. He then became part of the Occupation Force in Japan. Anyone familiar with being 17 and away from home knows about a homesickness that even Marines don't always cope well with. Anyone trying to get home from overseas at the end of WWII only got to go home after they'd accumulated enough "points". Knowing that it would be well over a year before he got to see the USA again, Dad did the unthinkable and volunteered.

The way he tells it, duty was tough as part of the Marine contingent on the U.S.S. Iowa - one of those big old battlewagons that lost their title as Queen of the Seas to the aircraft carrier. As a result of offering his services, Dad was assigned as an orderly/driver for the Captain - I can only imagine how tough it was being told: "Sergeant, take the car and do what you want until it's time to pick me up."

It was not all fun and frivolity, as Dad also had his gun post when the ship was at battle stations. To hear Dad tell it, there were guns to his left, and guns to his right, and the damn Navy didn't have any earplugs for Marines. Thus, the perforated eardrums, duly noted upon his first discharge, and duly ignored upon being recalled for Korea. The second reason he should not have been called back.

The hearing out of his left ear is the worst, so if you enjoy watching an 80 year old man get flustered, stand on his left side and mumble - works every time.

I can hear some folks now: "What a terrible thing to do to your father."

Upon entering the appointed room with the nurse practitioner yesterday, Dad noted a chair in the corner and informed that young lady that I would sit there, even though I had left my dunce cap home. Although we usually try to bring it along to cover my pointy head, we had forgotten it in the early morning hours.

You no longer need to ask me where I get it from.

As the years fly by, the men and women of that generation leave us more rapidly everyday. I have been blessed to have had the wisdom and counsel of my father for many years, and I'm praying for many more. Even at the tender age of 55, it is still comforting to know your Dad is always there for you.

There were no pearls of wisdom passed from father to son yesterday, no accidents or incidents to make the day more notable, but it is a day I will remember for the rest of my life simply because it was a day with Dad.

When you finally come to the realization that time, albeit relative, is always in short supply, it behooves us to remember those special days when nothing happened, other than a father and a son sharing love and making memories.