MEMORIAL DAY 2018

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SEABEE62
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MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by SEABEE62 » May 24th, 2018, 12:01 pm

Remember all who served and are no longer with us. Those that many of us had lost friends and relatives, not only in VN, but since then to Agent Orange, and other illness . Remember its to give Honor to those on Memorial Day....not Happy Memorial Day ! Salute ! , Taps ! Seabee
1971 M151A2 MUTT , M416 trailer
NMCB 62, Delta Co.,BU2, Gulfport, MS Home Port
VFW 3838, American Legion 63
Seabee Association of America LM , NMCB 62 Assoc.
"Performance Under Fire" US Navy Seabees '69-'72
National Assoc. of Atomic Veterans/ Amchitka
SEMO University Vet Corp Alumni
MVPA#32091

SEABEE62
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by SEABEE62 » May 25th, 2018, 10:52 am

Salute !!!!
1971 M151A2 MUTT , M416 trailer
NMCB 62, Delta Co.,BU2, Gulfport, MS Home Port
VFW 3838, American Legion 63
Seabee Association of America LM , NMCB 62 Assoc.
"Performance Under Fire" US Navy Seabees '69-'72
National Assoc. of Atomic Veterans/ Amchitka
SEMO University Vet Corp Alumni
MVPA#32091

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rickf
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by rickf » May 25th, 2018, 6:41 pm

SALUTE!!!
1964 M151A1
1984 M1008
1967 M416
04/1952 M100
12/1952 M100- Departed
AN/TSQ-114A Trailblazer- Gone

Lindsay36551
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by Lindsay36551 » May 25th, 2018, 9:25 pm

NOT ONLY this weekend BUT EVERY DAY ON THIS EARTH
CPL RICHARD F> ORR KIA 1945
PAUL J ORR KIA 6-14 2005
MY uncle and BROTHER, That is why I serve!
1967 M-35-a2-D SOLD
1973 M151A2
M151 A1-SOLD
196? franken MUTT
M1oo trailer-sold
1963 M151-sold
1968 M416 trailer
1988 998 Humvee-4 man
1994 998 Humvee-up armored

Lindsay36551
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by Lindsay36551 » May 25th, 2018, 9:51 pm

Sorry, but this is my HIGH HOLY day!
In my military family , you had 10 minutes to mourn and you better move on!
Hopefully in the next 2-3 years that will change!(with the passing of the old guard)
Been to ARLINGTON 2 times , Never again , My brother isn't there!
1967 M-35-a2-D SOLD
1973 M151A2
M151 A1-SOLD
196? franken MUTT
M1oo trailer-sold
1963 M151-sold
1968 M416 trailer
1988 998 Humvee-4 man
1994 998 Humvee-up armored

Lindsay36551
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by Lindsay36551 » May 25th, 2018, 10:04 pm

This year I restored a 1905 3 " field cannon for the American legion!
This will be presented to them thru the city of Eustis FL.
I'm taking 0 credit for the restoration!( zero cost to anyone but my self)
That's what I'm doing this MEMORIAL DAY weekend!
May god bless you ALL!
Best regards
Lindsay ORR
1967 M-35-a2-D SOLD
1973 M151A2
M151 A1-SOLD
196? franken MUTT
M1oo trailer-sold
1963 M151-sold
1968 M416 trailer
1988 998 Humvee-4 man
1994 998 Humvee-up armored

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m3a1
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by m3a1 » May 26th, 2018, 3:58 pm

Here's a memory of my best Memorial Day. Much of it is meant to be a humorous kid's reflection, which I hope none of you will take to be irreverent. The fact that we can enjoy our lives because the privilege has been paid for in blood is not lost to me.

Memorial Day was always a big deal in my family. It continues to be a big deal for me. This is the story of a very special Memorial Day when I was young. Enjoy!

When I was a kid, my town really turned out for Memorial Day. Every year, my father would put out a new flag on the day before, just like clockwork. There were always a lot of new flags being put out in the days leading up to Memorial Day. The local hardware store must have had them shipped in by the bushel and boy oh-boy they must have been making a killing. Putting out the new flag was always done with great reverence and every year while he was putting up the new flag, Dad would always give me The Talk, to remind me what Memorial Day was all about. As a kid, I was pretty sure I knew what Memorial Day was all about which is to say, being young and completely self-interested, I knew how it affected me. This is not an indictment as to my lack of character at the time but rather, an illustration of the single-mindedness of youth.

On Memorial Day, Mom would get me up very early and see to it that I scrubbed myself pink. She would stuff a full breakfast in me and deliver me, in full 'Class A' Scout regalia, to the local cemetery. Class A means long sleeves, a cap, a neckerchief and any other item of clothing that could possibly be hung on you. There at the cemetery older Scouts would set up folding chairs in neat lines while we younger Scouts put out a bazillion flags. This was a duty we younger Scouts performed because according to the older Scouts, we were closer to the ground. The logic was inescapable. Meanwhile, we all silently contemplated the misery that lay ahead of us. It was going to be hot; like being on the surface of the sun.

So, in keeping with the idea that Scouts are supposed to be hot, once all our duties at the cemetery were completed we would all be jammed into the backs of pickup trucks in layers (older Scouts got to sit on the sides of the bed) and then we would be driven to the forming area like we were being pursued by Russian hordes. And nobody fell out, darn it! Back then, adults were always trying to murder the kids...and we kids were okay with it.

Ahhh, yes! The Memorial Day Parade! An event in which I, and a lot of kids were forced to march, year after year. Aside from performing our civic duty, like putting put a bazillion little flags, what does schlepping across town under the blazing sun have to do with being a Scout? As adults, we know that it builds character and compels us to be civic-minded, but as a kid, parades were just a mysterious ritual we participated in because the adults, the people who housed, clothed and fed us, told us to march.

In all my years as a kid, I don't think I ever got to actually watch a parade and the only thing I got to see, parade-wise, was whatever was milling about in the formation area before everything got underway and then, only what was immediately in front of our group once we got going. The formation area was a place where hundreds of people stood around and sweated, all the while hoping that they didn't have to have to do you-know-what at the very last moment and this is where I remind you that my mother, bless her heart, had seen to it that I had a full meal before all this.

The formation area is also the place where Scouts were herded, like cattle, and held there against their will in the sunniest spot available while everyone else could be seen slipping away in ones and twos to a "necessary room" (the location of which was being kept a better secret than the recipe for Coca-Cola or even what was actually in Colonel Sanders' Seven Herbs & Spices) or, they were sneaking off to some other suitably restive place, like shade! Need I mention that in all of Scouting, there is no merit badge for 'Finding Shade.'

When it came to forming up, some years we might get lucky and be behind something like the baton twirlers who were always very sparkly and always very busy twirling something interesting but instead we Scouts usually got stuck right behind some huge convertible with a bad set of rings. When that happened, the older Scouts would see to it that they were posted in the rear. They got the fresh air while we younger Scouts got the smog. There's a little lesson in there somewhere but I just can't put my finger on it.

I always looked forward to seeing the Veterans before the whole thing got underway because they looked so very different from the way I usually saw them. There was my barber, and my father's automobile mechanic, the guy from the bank, the two guys who owned a gas station together (where I would eventually find employment while in high school) and some of our neighbors, and almost all of them turned out in uniforms! Of course, the VFW handled the color guard duties and those fellows always looked especially sharp with a double dose of starch in their uniforms.

At the time, the war in Southeast Asia was in full swing and somehow, someone always roped at least one of those poor Vietnam vets into being in the parade; some guy who undoubtedly had been contemplating the possibility that he might eventually be the focus of the day. The Vietnam vets stuck out not only because they were very young, but also because they looked very uncomfortable and embarrassed to be there. Maybe they had not yet deployed or maybe they had. Some who had already been to that war would go back and never return.

Now, the Korean War veterans stuck out because, to me, they looked and acted like they hadn't thawed out yet and in many ways, they hadn't. They were still working on coming to grips with their war. They were the guys with a faraway look in their eyes, like they were always somewhere else. The WWII veterans were, by now, old hands at all this Memorial Day stuff and most of them had their heads fully wrapped around it.

There were even a few WWI veterans. Pete Leiber had been a WWI fighter pilot. He had some stories to tell and I heard them all because he was friendly with my father who, luckily, had no actual war to speak of, but who had been in the occupation forces in Japan. Pete, with his ever-present cigarette, would always find someone to ride with, rather than walk in the parade.

The WWII and WWI vets were at ease with Memorial Day. They had sorted out what they had experienced and for the most part, had finally made friends with those experiences. Among the WWII and WWI vets there was always a lot of back-slapping and hand-shaking amongst them. But, they weren't to be trifled with. If one of them caught us looking, they'd give us The Look which always made me stand up a little straighter.

The high school marching band was always in the Memorial Day parade and that band was always out of tune and nearly always out of step. I don't mean to sound disparaging. It was probably like a Law, or something. Being kids, we Scouts would look at each other and make sour grapes faces when the band became particularly awful. We Scouts were always in step.... and if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you. When we marched we probably looked like a herd of gerbils. In later years, and me being a glutton for punishment, I would join that same band and show up to march some more. Go figure!

The terminus of the Memorial Day Parade was the cemetery. (Wait just one darned minute! Weren't we just here?! Was this trip really necessary?) All this parading really did was give me a greater appreciation for the Bataan Death March. Through eyes stinging with sweat and our tiny brains reeling from exhaust fumes, we saw our Scoutmasters as Japanese soldiers, ever urging us on with a rifle and bayonet so long that it stretched into next week. So we Scouts soldiered on and finally got there, tired and bedraggled, Once we arrived, our Japanese guards herded us into yet another formation while other, more fortunate people crowded around a single water spigot, slurped water noisily and stomped a mud hole in the ground while we watched. Water was for other kids and shade was for adults. We Scouts simply stood in the sun like so many terra-cotta soldiers and baked.

We scouts did our level best not to fidget too much while the color guard posted the colors and dignitaries (who obviously had been somewhere cool) read their prepared speeches, many of which were quite shamelessly plagiarized from other, more famous people's speeches. I'm sure I heard disjointed versions of the Gettysburg Address backwards and forwards about a thousand times over the years. We stood there at some lame version of being at 'Scout Attention' and we MELTED. OH BOY, did we sweat! Ask me later how the ceremony was and I would say, "damp" or maybe, "sticky."

Now, if you want to eliminate any possibility of kids getting at least something of value out of all those speeches then, dress them up warmly (and button that collar, Mister!), march them across town in formation, on blacktop, and then make them stand silently, in lines, under the sun, on a hot, humid day. This was before water bottles and coolers with wheels, people!

Afterward all was said and done, parents would round up their damp, sticky kids, stuff them into their huge station wagons and drive them home to whatever was waiting for them. But, for me, ONE YEAR was different, which is to say, one year, what happened AFTER the parade was different. Mom picked me up. She was looking unusually concerned as she drove me home. Had someone died? Well, yes, of course someone had died! This was Memorial Day, after all! When we arrived, my father called me to his bedroom, upstairs. To find him there was rare indeed, mainly because Dad was almost always up and doing something. But this day, my father was in repose on his bed with a paperback (the topic of which was invariably something to do with WWII).

So I showed up at his bedside, damp, sticky and I, being something of a Chatty Cathy, immediately launched into how my day had been. Dad interrupted. "Why don't you go look behind the wood shed?" Now, in our family, "behind the wood shed" has no negative connotation because, in our family, if punishment were in the offing, it was always a swift and public affair and it happened On The Spot so that every sibling could get the benefit of it.

Our house, built in 1826, had a large enclosed shed on the property, of which the front half was a dark, uninviting former three-hole outhouse with all the accommodations still in place (imagine three folks using THAT at the same time!) The outhouse was now being used as a tool shed and a home for untold numbers of wasps, hornets and other deadly creatures. The back half was an addition to the original outhouse, with a shed roof (hence our use of the term, 'shed'). It was fully enclosed and employed as a place to dry and store cut wood out of the weather.

I gave him a perplexed look because behind the wood shed there was nothing but a lot of grass. Grass that I probably needed to mow but. if the grass really needed mowing, my father wasn't shy about pointing it out. He'd come right out and tell me to get busy. Somewhat exasperated, Dad said, "Just go look behind the wood shed." So I galumphed downstairs in my usual two-steps-at-a-time manner which I was not supposed to do (because Dad said it was hard on those old stairs) and I went out to have a look.

....and there it was.

WOW! That's the only word by brain could produce at that moment. Just, WOW! Sitting there, gleaming in the sun was the most glorious gift I had ever received or would ever receive. It was the Holy Grail of gifts. A gift against which all other gifts in my life would be judged, and found wanting. Candy Apple Red with creamy white accents. Gleaming chrome. And best of all, totally unexpected. There sat a brand new Honda MiniTrail 50 and Candy Apple Red helmet to match.... and it was all mine.

What you cannot get from the photos below is what my mother is doing. She's taking the the photos and endlessly muttering something about my killing myself in some spectacular fashion. To be fair to my mother, Evil Knievel was busy entertaining the world with his exploits at the time and people weren't showing up to see him be successful at it. Not really. So, this was the reason for her concerned looks earlier! Naturally, Dad and I, being of the male persuasion, knew better. We knew that tempting fate was really the spice of life; something to be savored, enjoyed and (dare I say it?) celebrated.

Image

Image

Memorial Day means a lot of things, but for me, Memorial Day also reminds me of a Best Day Ever. Thank you, our honored dead and thank you Dad! I am grateful to you all.

Happy Memorial Day, all.
TJ
Last edited by m3a1 on May 29th, 2018, 12:04 pm, edited 11 times in total.

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rickf
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by rickf » May 26th, 2018, 7:30 pm

That was a great story and well told. You were a good looking kid, what happened? :twisted: :lol: :lol: :lol:
1964 M151A1
1984 M1008
1967 M416
04/1952 M100
12/1952 M100- Departed
AN/TSQ-114A Trailblazer- Gone

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m3a1
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by m3a1 » May 26th, 2018, 8:23 pm

Girls. THAT's what happened!

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rickf
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by rickf » May 27th, 2018, 11:05 am

Girls made you ugly and fat?! :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted:

NEVER, EVER open that door like that!


Have an enjoyable Memorial Day all and never forget what it is all about. Remind those that do.

To Geoffrey Webster aka Toptiger and Ralph Fuller aka Uglyranger, SALUTE and we miss you.
1964 M151A1
1984 M1008
1967 M416
04/1952 M100
12/1952 M100- Departed
AN/TSQ-114A Trailblazer- Gone

Rustman
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by Rustman » May 29th, 2018, 9:18 am

Having just come from the DC Memorial Day parade where I was driving a friends 1945 GPW and stopping at the National WW2 Memorial, having been a scout and putting out those flags, spending time talking with veterans of WWII, Korea, Vietnam and now Desert Storm. Having been as a civilian to Iraq and Afghanistan both...

Wow. Just wow. Your story just really hit me. This has been my best beginning of my work week in my cubicle ever. I really should just turn off the computer and go for a long walk.

Thank You
Matt

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m3a1
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Re: MEMORIAL DAY 2018

Unread post by m3a1 » May 29th, 2018, 11:16 am

Well, thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

I did a lot of growing the day my father presented that minibike to me. I recall it as the moment I became cognizant of what it meant to be really grateful for something.

I wasn't a spoiled kid but I never wanted for anything. Kids, if cared for, have a lot to be thankful for but, since almost everything is provided for them, it can be a difficult thing to learn because they come to expect it. I'm convinced no one can really grow up to be a decent human being without learning it. Perhaps that is what is wrong with a lot of people in the world today.

So, on these special days, when I all have the opportunity to express my gratitude, not only to those I know but also to those people I don't know, who have made our country safe and free, I keep them all in my thoughts.

Cheers,
TJ

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