Greatest Generation

I've recently watched the HBO series "The Pacific."  For those of you not familiar with it, it's about the United States Marines during World War 2.  The series briefly touches on three and a half years of the island hopping campaign as much as a couple hours of a drama possibly could.  All the way from Guadalcanal to Okinawa, and back home again.  The show portrays the Marines that are idolized in today's Corps.  These were the men that solidified the purpose of the Marine Corps.  These were the men that Admiral Chester Nimitz heroized when he said "Uncommon valor was a common virtue."

My grandfather was a veteran of the South Pacific.  He never really talked about it.  Few of you could understand.  Those of you who cannot, count yourselves blessed.  I know that by the very few stories he'd tell that he experienced the horrible things that men do to one another in war.

I understand why he never talked about those things.  Those stories are not ones that are brought up sitting around the camp fire let alone some idle Thursday night sitting around in the living room.  There are some stories I will never tell.  There are stories that I've regretting telling and wish I could take back so that no one else knows them.  There are memories that I will remain silent about for the rest of my life...as it should be.

I never had the chance to tell my grandpa how much in awe of his military service I am.  Not just him, but my Great-Uncle Jack as well.  He too is a veteran of the South Pacific.  I never tire of listening to him talk about his days during World War 2.  I respect and admire him more than he'll ever know.  I certainly look forward to getting back home to see him again.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with all of this.  It's mostly just a feeble attempt on my part to let you know how much I respect and admire our Greatest Generation, namely those that I'm fortunate enough to be related to.

Before I wrap this up tonight I will pass on this short story that my grandpa told me about on a few rare occasions when he'd talk about the war.  His unit was on a train moving from southern Australia to northern Australia in preparation for the taking back of New Guinea from the Japanese.  As they were moving along my grandpa, as well as many of the other men, were firing their rifles and pistols at the kangaroos that were hopping parallel to the train.  My favorite part of the story wasn't the story itself.  It was always the mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he'd tell it to me.  I certainly miss him.