I have found that "family" around you is a product of twists of fate, world events and personal decisions made long ago. Anguish, happiness, despair and harmony. The effect of war on families and the resulting peace from the untold sacrifices made by the Greatest Generation.
While I am not a writer, I hope to be able to bring to light the spontaneity of life. As I wish to be historically accurate, some quotes will be as I heard them...but there was no malice coming from those that spoke those words. They were reliving the past horrors of war - a war that you nor I fought in. They did.
I’ll admit, for me, Memorial Day often represents the first long weekend of the year, the kick-off of summer. I knew it had to do with remembering military service men and women, and I knew that it was a weekend when my parents remembered their lost loved ones.
I never really thought about it beyond that, and I’m ashamed to admit it. But this morning, one of my favorite commercials came on during the news:
I love this commercial, probably because it reminds me of how I used to feel when my dad arrived home from one of his trips. As a pilot in the Air Force, he was often gone for months at a time, and when he arrived home, sometimes by surprise and sometimes not, it was as if all was right with the world again.
So, this commercial prompted me to look up the “real” meaning of…
Old Man Jack entrusted me with his house keys “…in case he shot himself in the foot” as he put it. Now covered in dust is Old Man Jack’s favorite baby – the F4U Corsair albeit a toy. He would push that button in once in a while, listen to this toy’s engine sound and watch the prop spin… It would echo a bit in my hallway…
I looked at these two old keys in my hand. They belonged to Old Man Jack and the thought of Memorial Day instantly crossed my mind.
At times, I feel the meaning of Memorial Day has either faded or has changed.
In essence, many people living in today’s “politically correct” society have taken the sacrifices of our fallen to mean a three day weekend.
Sad…but that’s how I feel.. and it angers me.
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When I looked at those two keys, my mind raced to some of the things Old Man Jack said.
But mostly, to the things he could not say.
In the twelve years I was honored to know him, he would abruptly blurt out something once in a while when we were talking in his garage… while sitting in the blue wheelchair that belonged to his wife.
There was no story associated with these mutterings.
“Boys got killed on those stinkin’ islands…” then raise his thick, white eyebrows.
Or, “Hell, I pissed in my pants.”
Or once in a while, he would make a muffled smack with his lips then slowly shake his head left and right… and not say anything more.
After recovering and meandering next to his plane, he simply let out, “Some of (the pilots) just didn’t come back. I could never stop thinking, ‘Did a Jap get him… or was it me?’”
He said that because as Ground Crew Chief, he was responsible for the airworthiness of the plane a young Navy or Marine pilot would take out on a mission…to shoot at the enemy…or be shot at. These planes had to be in the best fighting condition as lives depended on it. But he frequently said “they had to make do” because they never had enough spare parts… so they HAD to improvise.
One time, he said a bushing had been shot out on a plane that had to go on a mission the next morning. Old Man Jack did what he could. What he must. He soaked two pieces of coconut logs in engine oil overnight. When it came time for the pilot to take off, he clamped the oil soaked wood around the cabling and used baling wire to clamp them together as tightly as he could. The plane left on its mission – with the young pilot behind the stick…in a plane with oil soaked coconut log as a bushing.
Unbelievable.
Now perhaps you understand the depth of his utterance of, “…or was it me?”
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Old Glory shimmering off a P-51 Mustang at the Chino Planes of Fame Museum.
I will never have an answer because the question could never have been asked of him.
But I feel Old Man Jack carried tremendous guilt in his heart about something that happened on those stinkin’ islands.
Not just bad; real bad.
Deep down, my heart tugs at me that someone within Old Man Jack’s reach died that shouldn’t have… and that Old Man Jack feels personally responsible for his death… and he carried that anguish for all these years.
Torment.
Grief.
Guilt.
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As Old Man Jack said, some of the young pilots didn’t come back.
They were killed or are forever missing in action.
That is for whom Memorial Day is all about.
To remember and honor those that did not come back…and not a Memorial Day sale.
While I do not care for the term “revisionist”, I do care about truth.
And it has always been my “feeling” that the Warren Commission Report’s conclusion on the assassination of JFK – that Lee Harvey Oswald was the lone gunman – is “flawed”.
I don’t even feel Oswald killed him.
No, I was not present during the Commission’s hearings nor was I even in Texas when JFK was murdered… but is it PRACTICABLE that Oswald, using a cheaply made Russian Italian rifle, could accurately squeeze off three rounds – and hit the President twice? Remember, he didn’t have a “dry run” before the motorcade drove by.
But this new documentary, “JFK: the Smoking Gun” was absolutely fascinating.
I watched it today on Netflix… for FREE.
Even if you were born after JFK’s assassination, watching this will give you some insight on how the Federal Government operates – to the detriment of the people it is to meant to serve. It’s politicians trying to police politicians… Or the Secret Service trying to protect itself.
I love this commercial, probably because it reminds me of how I used to feel when my dad arrived home from one of his trips. As a pilot in the Air Force, he was often gone for months at a time, and when he arrived home, sometimes by surprise and sometimes not, it was as if all was right with the world again.
Masako and Spam Musubi 