Salute To My Dad

After 4 months of not posting a blog, I have now decided to enter the world of the blogosphere once again. It was not that there was a lack of things to blog about, rather it was me not being motivated to blog. I was beginning to think I was not going to blog again, but last night I got the urge to post a blog, so ready or not, here am I.

Yesterday evening I attended the Veteran's Day service in Gainesville. It was a pretty neat service with a massive fireworks display for the finale. The local bands and choir were good, the speakers and performers did a good job. But the real stars of the evening were the Veterans themselves who had come out to the event. Most veterans wore something identifying themselves as a Vet. Some came with obvious physical discomforts brought on by their service. All were there with a quiet, classic dignity only a Veteran seems to carry these days. During the service I could not help but think of my dad (pictured above).

A Veteran himself who recently turned 84 last month. On his 19th birthday he got off a troop transport and marched to Pantanella Air Base outside of Canosa, Italy. Courtesy of Uncle Sam, my dad was a member of the 15th Army Air Force, 465th Bomb Group (H), 781st Bomb Squadron. He served as the ball gunner on a B-24 Liberator flying missions over the Alps to bomb Nazi targets in Austria, Hungary, Romania and throughout the Balkans. (The ball gunner is the gunner located on the underside of the plane.)

As a young teenager learning to shoot pheasants, I was always in awe of my dad's ability to consistently hit pheasants flying fast and far away. On one hunting trip I ask my dad how he was able to always hit the birds with seemingly so little effort. He commented that the hours of practicing shooting at fighter planes flying at all possible angles while moving at 275 m.p.h. made shooting at pheasants seem rather pedestrian.

I have found this reply to be fairly typical from Veterans. Having a lifetime of experiences forged into their character in a few short years, they go about their lives with little acclaim and no need for attention. They work, play, serve and bring much betterment to each community where they live. Their sacrifices given in years past seem too easily taken for granted by those never having to serve their fellow man through the military. Quietly productive in most all they do, building our nation up and moving her forward. True champions of liberty are the men and women serving us through their sacrifices of military duty. God bless our Veterans. Thank you one and all. And thank you, dad, for you're the best of them all.