Service People
Regardless of the politics of any conflict one thing is for sure: It ain’t the fault of those young folks on the ground who just hope and pray to stay alive and get back home.
Whenever I see a service or police person as a patient I always close with the same statement, and I mean it. “I appreciate what you do for me. I’m too old to protect myself anymore and you put yourself in harm’s way to see it to I am free to be a Doc and try to do a little good. Anything else I can do for you?”
My dad’s big brother died in France in WWII. Dad rarely speaks of it, but of course has never forgotten. Like many towns around the country we have a monument on the Courtsquare. His name along with many others is etched on there for all time.
We play a gig every so often on the Square. Every time I go by there I stop and look his name up on the monument and say a silent prayer. I didn’t have the privilege to know him, but everyone around here says he was a wonderful young man. I’ve seen pictures. He was a good-looking boy with this big smile. They say he was a shutter-bug. I wonder what all he could have done with more than twenty short years. I guess we’ll know in eternity.
Hats off to all who serve.
Dr. B
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Dr. Tom Bibey: Stories of the Bluegrass Music Road 
November 12, 2009 at 6:31 am
“More than just a name on a wall”
November 12, 2009 at 6:34 am
I have veterans, here and in the great beyond, stretching back to the Revolutionary War. I always try to show my appreciation to my step-dad who was in WWII. So was my dad. And, a lot of my cousins…. Also had cousins in Vietnam war too.
November 12, 2009 at 6:40 am
Carmen and Cindy, Amen guys. We should never forget them. Dr. B
December 1, 2009 at 4:28 pm
Just back from 2 weeks holiday and catching up on your blog – belated comment on your posting about those who serve. Very moved by what you say. When it comes to remembering those who have served in past wars, I particularly remember two people – my dad, who served with the British Army in WWII and was wounded in Normandy shortly after D Day, and my maternal grandfather – who was on the other side! My mother’s family were German. Her dad fought in the army in WWI and was awarded the Iron Cross for bravery. In WWII, he was a colonel in the German Air Force ground troops. Early in 1945, as the Third Reich was collapsing, he and his men were forced to go out and fight the Russians, just as the Nazi big chiefs were packing their bags and getting ready to escape to Spain or South America. Because he had concern for the welfare of the men under his command, he ended up telling them to drop their guns and head for the west, so as to be captured by the British or Americans rather than the Soviets – for which he could easily have been shot or hung for his pains. He was a very brave, decent man, and I always remember him at this time of year, when in this country we have all sorts of services and ceremonies to remember those who fought in previous and present wars.
December 1, 2009 at 5:24 pm
Martin,
I’ve always thought the guys on the ground were about the same regardless of which uniform they wore. The kingpins at the top of the heap often figure out how to stay out of harm’s way. Your comments confirm this is often the case.
Dr. B