The words aren't enough, but in honour of Canada's Rememberance Day on the 11th, let's take a moment to recognize our men and women in uniform. I was seriously involved with a tanker for almost 2 years, and I know how much the CF sacrifices to protect the True North. It's all the little things that go unrecognized and unacknowledged that really add up, and for them, my sincere thanks. Keep kickin ass. Focus: I dunno, say thanks to your military for keeping you safe and free. Tell a story about brotherhood. Give 'em some love, post hot chicks in camo and show 'em some boobies.
(North) America, fuck yeah! Just kidding. One of the primary reasons I took the job I have was because it involves supporting our men and women in uniform. My Dad got drafted, as did both of my grandfathers, but they all went and did what they had to do. I have been lucky since there have been no more drafts, but I always felt uneasy about the idea of going through life without making some small contribution. And small it is indeed - I've given up a some money and maybe some stock options; but the folks on the base risk much more. Thanks to all who serve and have served; stay safe out there.
While she's not a veteran, my aunt served in the Gulf War. It's been a while and I don't remember exactly what she was doing over there. If I think about it today, I'll ask her and get back to you. My cousin came to live with my grandmother in Newfoundland while that was going on. He was in the 3rd or 4th grade at the time, I think. And with it being small-town Newfoundland, everybody made a huge deal of it. Rightfully so.
If anyone's noticed, the cenotaphs in my city for some reason wind up with graffiti on them throughout the year, and fortunately get sandblasted in time for the ceremonies this week. What the fuck. To make matters worse, I always see people sitting on the steps and taking pictures like it were a fucking tourist attraction. Makes me sick. Also, I hope you guys donate more to buy a poppy than you typically tip a bartender for a drink. On this note, my university has a rather proud but entirely forgotten military history. The most prominent building on campus is a tower dedicated to those university students who served in WWI; inside the tower and nearby are inscribed all of the alumni war dead from WWI and WWII. It's a rather large number of people. A large chunk of campus has, at times, been turned into a military training camp. I'll see about getting and posting a picture later, but inside are the most inspiring phrases one could hope to read on a war memorial. It's something I vastly prefer hearing to the kind of non-intellectual piffle at the campus Remembrance day service. What gets me about the memorial is that, given the type of people who attended university in those days, the people on that wall were to a certain extent rather privileged, and yet they sacrificed along with everyone else in the country. For that matter, very few of them are officers; most seem to have been enlisted men. It's not something I see much of the current crop of university students having the fortitude or selflessness to do. Both my mother's and father's families were liberated by Canadian troops in WWII. My grandfather used to trade haircuts for cigars (back in the days when the military issued such things). I don't think it's a coincidence that when they immigrated after the war, they both came to Canada.
It's not a lot, but it's more than most companies do i suspect: <a class="postlink" href="http://www.applebees.com/vetsDay/default.aspx" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://www.applebees.com/vetsDay/default.aspx</a> I have several ex-Marine friends, including a guy that was deployed in the buildup before the second Iraq war. Apparently he was within range of Iraqi artillery while in Kuwait waiting for the go order if Iraq had decided to let loose. Eventually we went in and he was probably one of the relatively first people to invade Bagdad or the area around it. He doesn't talk much about it, but occasionally you can get him to talk about the random bank robbery he and his guys helped stop or similar stuff. Anyway, thanks vets in all branches, we owe you.
My dad and I are both former Marines, and yesterday was the Marine Corps' 235th birthday. I was sure to bring home some beer yesterday so he and I could have a proper bullshit session about the crap we pulled while in the service. Good times. Seeing as how my manager told me to take today off, I plan on going to get a haircut then meeting up with the old man to get that free blooming onion. Feeling pretty festive this Veterans Day. Quick piece of history that some of you may enjoy: the Marine Corps was founded at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on November 10, 1775. That's right, the Marine Corps started in a bar. That may explain a few things.
I have cousins in the Navy, the Army, and the Air Force, I have a complicated romantic relationship with a Naval officer, and my boss at work lies to all our patients and says he served time in the military, but will not specify if he was in the navy or the army.
I was a gunner in Baghdad in '05. On February 21, we lost three men to an IED attack and two were seriously injured. I always spend Veterans' Day thinking about Dave, Jesse and Jason. Godspeed boys, and thanks to everyone else who served.
Three of my four grandparents were veterans: My maternal grandmother served in an administrative position in the armed forces - I believe the RCAF, but I'm not sure. My maternal grandfather was a Spitfire pilot for the RCAF; during his service, his plane was hit by a shell and the subsequent explosion caused him to lose his left lung. Ironically (or tragically), years after the war when he was staying in a hotel for business, it caught fire. He was the only fatality, presumably because of his reduced lung capacity. My paternal grandfather - and very much the patriarch or my whole family - was a tailgunner in a Lancaster bomber. He was 6'4", and to fit into the tail I'm told was quite an experience. As the years went on, Remembrance Day became harder and harder for him. He was never one to join in the veterans' parades or the local branches of the Legion or anything like that. In fact, I only ever heard him talk about his experiences in the war once. However, having the constant reminder throughout November wore on him. It compounded when my grandma (his wife) passed away seven years ago today from a stroke. This month is horrible for my family (there have been other deaths right around this week throughout the years), and I view this day as one to quietly observe the sacrifice they all made. I'll be taking the dogs to some obscure park and observing a moment of silence in a few hours.
RIP to the brave fallen volunteers of Óglaigh na hÉireann "When I was a child of ten, I went on my bare knees by my bedside one night and promised God that I should devote my Life to an effort to free my country. I have kept the promise. I have helped to organise, to train, and to discipline my fellow-countrymen to the sole end that, when the time came, they might fight for Irish freedom. The time, as it seemed to me, did come, and we went into the fight. I am glad that we did. We seem to have lost; but we have not lost. To refuse to fight would have been to lose; to fight is to win" Patrick Pearse
Thanks to the 50 generals and flag officers who graciously resigned their positions so that money that previously went to their salaries and the fiefdoms they had built up could now be spent on things actually needed to fight wars and protect our troops. Just kidding. Thanks to Robert Gates for working to get military funding where it needs to go.
Today sucks. A neighbour just passed away this morning after a year-long battle with infection from a knee replacement complication. He was a giant of a man; 6'6, 300+ lbs. His story is incredible. Herb was born in Germany, and was conscripted into the Hitler Youth as a child, and then served on German subs for a couple of years. He hated the Nazis, and the war, and his time on the subs, and at his earliest opportunity he defected and came to Canada. I never did learn the details of his defection, but I've been told it was quite incredible. In the mid-80's, when I was getting ready to head off to military college, my parents threw me a going away party. Herb, being one of our neighbours, attended with his 3-beer capacity beer stein and his gregarious personality. At some point during that night, he sat me down, and very seriously told me that he was incredibly proud of what I was doing, and said that he loved no other country like he loved Canada and what it stood for. He then handed me a simple little wooden plaque, that was about 5"x3", made of pine, with a small maple leaf inlaid in it in maple. He'd made it in his garage the week before as a token of his appreciation, and a small reminder for me, in the hopes that I'd never forget the true reasons for serving our country. I still have that plaque hanging on my wall at home, and it somehow seems fitting that Herb would pass away on Remembrance Day. I never saw combat, but still lost 6 comrades in various training exercises. A crashed aircraft into the Pacific Ocean, a clearance diver mishap, and a premature detonation of a demolition charge. 3 of them were cadets with me at military college, and I was honoured to be chosen as the lone piper that played at the memorial service we held for them. For those of you unfamiliar with this, here's a video of something similar being played at the Edinburgh Military Tattoo. While I wasn't able to make it to the Remembrance Day services being held in town (I've spent the morning driving Herb's wife around dealing with various things), I did fire up the bagpipes on my parents' back porch and scared off the local squirrels with a semi-recognizable rendition. It probably pissed off the neighbours, but fuck them. So forget nationalities, or political bullshit, and just spend a few moments remembering the individuals that have and do serve with a contemplative moment of silence, if you would. And then drink and have fun in celebration of the memories of those that are no longer with us.
Thank you to all who have served or are currently serving.. I have no military experience, but all of the men my grandfathers age, on both sides of the family, served in either the Pacific or European theaters during WWII. The next generation all joined the military as well (army and navy), seeing no combat as they were serving during that period of time between the Korean war and when Vietnam really got hot. I have a few friends who were in the marines, and my brother in law fought in Desert Storm
Currently serving in the Air Force Reserve, did 4 years of active duty before seperating in 08...big props to all service members on TiB and everyone else at home and abroad. Cheers.
Thank you somehow seems inadequate to express my gratitude for all those who ever have, are currently, or ever will serve. But alas, I am not articulate enough to find the words so, THANK YOU ALL.
My father's father had flat fleet, so he spent the duration of the war building submarines up at Lake Washington to help put the hurt on Japanese shipping. My other grandfather served in the Army Reserve during Korea, I think flat feet also played a role there. My great-grandfather didn't have this problem, and served in the Pacific during World War II. My most prized possession is his compass. Words are not sufficient gratitude for the achievements and sacrifices of those who have served.
Unfortunately Uncle Sam did not see me fit to serve in the beloved Marine Corps (cataract). Thank you to every other man and woman who was able to serve. There isn't enough words to express my gratitude. To SGT Pizano, I hope you make it back after this 4th tour.
A big thank you to all those serving in the armed forces. It's easy to take for granted the sacrifices you people make day in and day out, some of which we'll probably never realize or understand. But it won't be forgotten, thanks.