The Veteran I Remember

I have been debating all day about whether I would post something today, and what I would post today. Veteran's Day makes me a little melancholy any year. This past week I was so wrapped up with Valour-IT that I sort of just crashed today. But I am pleased to see that the donations have continued to climb today. And I did make the rounds again today to all the Team Air Force blogs. Kind of ran out of steam on the cheerleading though.

I had pretty much decided not to post anything for Veteran's Day, when I just visited Mudville Gazette. Greyhawk's post really struck a chord with me, as it directly relates to my melancholy feelings about Veteran's Day.

My Grandfather was a Regimental Sergeant Major in World War I, Cavalry. That was when cavalry meant horses, of course. He served in France. He didn't know my Grandmother yet. She was a room mate of Grandpa's sister and she started writing to him when he was in France.

He never talked too much to me about the war, but then, I was just a little girl. He did tell me about his horse. And he told me about one time he was supposed to go on a mission but he was very, very sick so somebody else went instead. The train his replacement went on, the one my Grandfather should have been on, got blown up. It was a munitions train. One of those things that makes you think. Just complete chance?

Anyway, after my Grandmother died when I was 9, my Grandfather lived with us part of the time. He would go to his sister's house in California in the winter and then in the summer he would take turns at our house and at 2 different uncle's houses up here. After he couldn't travel anymore, he stayed up here full time. When he did pass away, he had been staying at one of my uncle's. Now nobody knows where Grandpa's belongings went. It was one of those deals where uncle's wife had died, and I don't know what all family stuff was happening, there were step-kids... but then my uncle met another woman and remarried and now he claims not to have or know anything about Grandpa's stuff. There were things Grandpa had from his time in the service, medals, patches, photos from all the years, probably the letters that Grandma wrote him, and other things. According to my other uncle, you can't even ask about it. I don't know if maybe one of the step kids ended up with it or what. When I asked Mom about writing to the Army for records, she said they thought all his records were gone in the fire at the Army records center in St. Louis. But I suppose it would be worth a try to write and request anything that might exist.

All we have is the flag from the funeral. It was in a drawer since 1980 until last year when I decided to get my mom a flag case for Christmas. And I had a plaque engraved for it with his name and rank and dates on it. That much info was on his grave marker at least. It's kind of sad, because I feel like a part of history is gone, unknown. I try to remember as much as I can about things he told me, but it wasn't that much to begin with, and as a kid, you never think how important it might be to you in later years. Thinking on it now, I wonder if he carried the weight of guilt about that other man's death with him all those years. From what I have read, back in that day your rank did not transfer with you if you changed regiments, so to reach Regtl Sgt Major, he was probably at least a Sgt during the war and was responsible for the welfare of other people. Who knew. He was just my Grandpa, ya know? He was very soft spoken, and I never heard him order anybody around… except Grandma, when he was hungry. [smile]

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