Veteran's Day

On this Veteran's Day, I would simply like to honor the people in my family that served in the military throughout the years, and give my thanks not only to those that made it home safely, but also pay my respect to the great uncle that did not.

I think about that sometimes.  

"What if?"

If my Papa or Granddad hadn't made it back from WWII, I wouldn't be here… my Mom or my Dad wouldn't have been born and my Dad wouldn't have fought in Vietnam.  And I very sadly think of the family that never happened because a young man never made it home.  

First, my Dad.  My Dad was drafted during Vietnam and served in the Army in the 9th Infantry Division of the Mobile Riverine Force.  Vietnam did a number on my Dad, and although time has blurred some of the lines, there is no doubt evidence of the emotional scarring he suffered from Vietnam.  He was awarded the Purple Heart for injuries sustained during combat, but he is physically in great condition today.  

  I have a true treasure in my possession.  I have my Dad's Army dress uniform, the uniform he wore home from the war.  He took it off when he got home, hung it up on a hanger and it's never been taken off that hanger or worn since.   

This is my paternal Grandfather, Elmer Bowen.  My Papa.   He served in the Navy during WWII as a Torpedoman's Mate First Class.  He was stationed at Attu Island in the Aleutian Islands during the Battle of Attu, therefore I am very thankful he is with us today.  

My Papa on the pier.  It looks very cold.  He used to tell me a story about being a Torpedoman's Mate and using french bread to turn "Torpedo Juice" into raw alcohol for drinking.  Back in the WWII days, torpedoes were fueled with 180 proof ethyl alcohol.  To discourage drinking this alcohol, the Navy added toxic methanol and dyes to it.  But, according to my Papa, they would cut the top and bottom of the bread loaf off and pour the "Torpedo Juice" slowly through the loaf.  The loaf would allegedly "catch" all the toxins and dye out of the juice and straight alcohol would drip out of the bottom.  I call foul on his theory that the bread cleaned the toxins out the bread.  He and his shipmates are probably really lucky to be alive after drinking some pretty dangerous brew back on the Island of Attu.  

This is my Papa, his brother David who also served, and their sisters Virginia and Lois.

This is my Great-Grandpa Harold Walker during WWI.  Which one?  Well, we don't know.  And rather than speculate based on family resemblance, we will just leave it at "I don't know which one."  

Now, on to my Mom's side of the family.

This is my maternal Granddad, Ernst Leichsenring, or "Teddy" as everyone called him.  He served in the Army Air Corps in WWII as an Aerial Engineer and was involved in battles in Naples, Sicily, Libya and Tunisia.

I see Justice in this picture of him.  Justice definitely has his bone structure.  His military separation paperwork, which I am blessed to have in my possession, lists him at 6 feet and 145 pounds.

 This is my Great-Grandfather, Fred Broshears.  He served in the Army in WWI.

And last, but never least… is my Great Aunt Mildred Freiday, Ernst's sister.  My Bodie.  She served in the Navy during WWII.  And as I've already mentioned 100 times in my blog posts, she holds a very special place in my heart.

Today, I am thankful for the rich military history in my family.  I am thankful for the courageous young men that went to war for our country.  I am grateful for my Bodie and the courage that she gave me that turned my first four year tour in the Navy into a 20 year career.  I am humbled to be among these family members, and to leave my fingerprint in our family military history.  

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In memory of my Great Uncle Joseph "Dutchie" Walker, who died in Naples, Italy while serving in WWII.  Rest in peace.

August 31, 1923 - February 4, 1944