The days I feel old and complain about aches and pains, make me realize what a puss I am. One of the benefits of being born when I was is that I got to spend so much time with guys who served in WWII and Korea. My grandfather was in Saipan. My step-dad was in Guadalcanal. Just in our little town, their names are so many; Hank lost a leg, Vern flew, Harold was on a Bomber group in Europe, Karl was at Battle of the Bulge, Owen, Cliff, John, Pete, the list goes on and on. I remember everyone of them, their pictures all framed at the American Legion room, with their service years and the branch with which they served.
Many of the guys who came into my Mom's little diner had served in a variety of locations and those willing to talk about their experiences had some horrific events to talk about. As a youngster, I sat and listened to any of them who were willing to talk. Everyone of them had the well-deserved respect of their peers and the entire community.
I'm thankful for every single one of them.
