SheSue Experience

Imagine hundreds of small flags all lined up in rows. Every Veteran’s Day while my son was active in Boy Scouts, troops all came together to plant flags on all the graves at a local cemetery. After planting the flags, there was a ceremony with speeches, colorguard (presenting of flags both Scouting and American) and music. It was a touching ceremony, bringing grown men to tears.

I have three vets in my family, granddad, dad and brother. I found the following written by a Marine in honor of those who have and now serve in the military:

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a Jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg – or perhaps another sort of inner steel:

The soul’s ally forged in the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can’t tell a vet just by looking. So, what is a vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn’t run out of fuel.

He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She or he is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another – or didn’t come back AT ALL.

He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat – but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other’s backs.

He is the parade – riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean’s sunless deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket – palsied now and aggravatingly slow – who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being – a person who offered some of his life’s most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say “Thank You”. That’s all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.
~ ~ ~Father Denis Edward O’Brien, USMC

Over the years, I have considered participating in one of those programs where you write letters to military personnel serving overseas. This year is the year. What I found were programs that offer much more than just letters. There are many programs out there. The program I decided on is called Soldier’s Angels. They offer a long list of programs such as making blankets, canes or baked goodies; sending first aid supplies, caring for pets at home, offering support to loved ones at home, or sending holiday care packages. I have decided on the Adopt a Soldier program. I will be responsible for sending a card or letter every week plus sending a care package once or twice a month. The ‘adoption’ lasts for as long as their deployment from 6 months to a year. I’ll let you know how it goes.