When I was a kid, everyone looked up to President Eisenhower with respect for his wartime service. He was a genuine hero. Along with him were a veritable host of other general officers, some alive, some dead who were also genuine heroes. I read all about the doings of Gen. Frank Everest (one of the 1950s, Fastest Men Alive), Gen. Chuck Yeager, Gen. Jimmy Doolittle (now he had some big ones), and the list goes on and on.
I remember my father and his friends standing up suddenly from their coffees at the Rexall drug counter one Saturday morning. In walked a thin old man whose face looked like any other weathered West Texas rancher. The stranger was wearing an old leather jacket with a bunch of patches and scruffy boots. Gen. Tex Hill (David Lee “Tex” Hill – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia) had come to visit an acquaintance in town. I saw nothing but respect shining in the eyes of those men. What’s more, that respect seemed to go both ways. Sure Tex was a really big shot and some of dad’s friends had been WWII privates, but the great man spoke with each and shook their hands. I may even have had my crew cut rubbed as I stood sheepishly at dad’s side, wondering about this stranger suddenly in our midst.
My Boy Scout troop was led by a WWII Colonel. I shot on a rifle team led by another WWII Colonel. I was blessed to be raised at a time when there were an abundance of genuine heroes, both local and national. When the Cold War suddenly became hot in the 1960s, I could see confidence in these steady men and knew that not only that they would not run, I understood they knew how to take care of war’s deadly business. Those men held my trust and admiration. They were my heroes. I wanted to grow up and be just like dad and his friends.
My dad and his brothers along with mom’s brothers were all veterans. From what little I overheard, my father and one of his brothers did some really dangerous things in occupied France. My soft spoken mom worked for Boeing in Wichita helping make B24 and B17s flown by brave men who helped put the final end to WWII. The people in my young life were all bigger than life. I wanted to grow up and be just like them.
Something different happened in Korea. One of dad’s youngest brothers lost fingers and toes at a place called Frozen Chosin and his attitude was slightly different than that of the older siblings. Then came my generation’s war, Viet Nam. Sure we all knew who Gen. Westmoreland was, but his name didn’t carry the same respect of those WWII generals. Neither did President Johnson.
Somehow being a combat veteran was no longer admired – and the country changed.
Every generation needs heroes. My generation revered the WWII greats. Whom does the millennial generation revere? Madonna, movie actors, I don’t even know. Somehow this country has lost touch with its heroes. They are still here, but now real heroes have to compete with Hollywood fakes – and with video games.
I have seen the stars on the Memorial Wall at CIA headquarters and read from the associated Book of Honor. I have read the names inscribed in the FBI Hall of Honor at Quantico. I have read many of the citations associated with recipients of the Congressional Medal of Honor. Some of you might even be alive today because of the unsung sacrifice of that band of brothers. Most of you I fear, cannot name even one of those many, those brave souls who so loved his country and brother – and paid the ultimate sacrifice for that devotion.
This generation has genuine heroes but I can’t think of one extant national politician who qualifies. I think it would behoove each of us with children to find genuine heroes. Men and women who live or have lived their lives in a way that is both glorious and honorable and who represent all that is good in our culture.
I took what is likely a final trip to my hometown a few years ago. It was to attend the funeral of a man whom in my youth was a small town merchant. Royce Jones ran the local Western Auto where all of us boys would go to look at those neat chrome Western Flyer bicycles. I’m sure my parents knew, but I didn’t. As a lad, I didn’t have a clue who Royce really was. You see, Royce Jones flew B17s in Europe during WWII. Among his honors was the Distinguished Flying Cross. He was a real hero and worthy of adoration. Yet, I grew up in that small dusty West Texas town, never knowing who was actually running the local Western Auto.
Folks, we need to ferret out those real life heroes hiding silently in the crowds. Your children need to know them and about them. Heroes inspire greatness in each of us, their lives shining examples of what we might aspire to do or to become.
In all humbleness and with great debt,
Panhandle Rancher
PR, I am very proud to have a lithograph of the Flying Tigers on my wall signed by Tex Hill and 11 other pilots that became the core of the Army Air Corp in WWII. They and many other pilots and their exploits have been my heroes since the 70s when I was in high school. I can’t agree more that we need those heroes and have found that not all mine had military backgrounds. My grandfather was one of my heroes. A Vermont dairy farmer that taught me an awful lot about life and how to interact with people. He was also a stickler for self-reliance. Dad was career Military. I read about every aviation story I could find and they where the impetus for my career. Now both my kids have a taste of the military life. She hated it and got out, he is now career oriented. I am proud of them and hope they inspire more of their generation and the next to serve as well.
Amen! PR
I remember back on my grandparents farm, the uncles coming over for weekend meal and hearing there stories from WWI thru Korea. My cuisines where off in Vietnam and some of my uncles of my Dad’s age. My Dad was on his way to Vietnam and made to Okinawa before they realized his oldest brother was already there at Khe Sanh, so they transferred my Dad to the Med Fleet. My grandfather telling his story about landing in Tunisia and marching across the north African dessert with Darby hunting Germans and Italians. My uncle Raymond with one lung, and me finding out a Japanese sniper took the other lung at Guadalcanal and that after they secured the island
I make it my business to shake a Vet’s when ever i come in contact with them and thank them, sometimes I will pay for there meal including there family or assist in some kind of way.
Badger.
My dad drove a crappy Sherman tank in WW2; never bragged and rarely even talked about it (and he was in Bastonge) ! Now we have draft-evader Trump denigrating Sen. McCain…sad. I can’t imagine doing what my dad, let alone what McCain went thru. Trump also had the gall to compare his military prep school to actual military service. When potential leaders run down real heroes, we’ve reached a sad state.
Amen! When California can’t even honor John Wayne, that’s pretty sad.
SteveJ, a sad state indeed.
For the first time, I have heard presidential candidates talk about what their parents and grandparents did in the war. What a joke. The contribution of that generation has already been made. Politicians are all despicable, each in their unique ways. The only thing Trump has going for himself is that of the line up, he is the only unprofessional politician and you all know what I think of professional politicians and Jezebels.
TexasScout, John Wayne wore his Hollywood guns to a ‘cheer them up’ meeting with a group of injured WWII US Marines at a hospital in Hawaii. He was booed. Those Leathernecks had seen enough of the real thing not to be impressed by Hollywood.
I encountered JW briefly outside a hotel where we both were both staying. I asked politely if I might take his photo. He grinned and replied, “Wall I guess you can if you’ve got a camera.” A real US icon. JW, like Glen Miller, and the other ‘actors and performers’ all did what they could for those who were on the front lines.
PR
PR you are on the money. My uncles, father & step-father all left the farms and went Europe & the South Pacific. Couple of my older cousins did Korea. My era cousins and myself went to Vietnam. I ended doing 25 years. Now my two sons have each done 12 years. Army & Marines. Afghanistan & even jungles of the Philippines. I guess I’m lucky. I do have some heros but the country doesn’t. Can only keep hoping for the best.
Excellent post PR.. well done.
I know nothing practical of WWI personally.. it preceded me by several years of course. We had men in our family that served, and some of those did not come back. All were spoken of with respect. One or two went to Korea, and several to Vietnam. As a small fry you don’t think about it much, until much later and often after they’ve passed on. I remember those men. They were men of integrity, not perfect, but working at it every day. I expect they were before the volunteered or they had it in them and their service brought it out of them. The ones I know that were drafted were not all like that, and did not volunteer.. I’m sure it had something to do with it. They did however come out better than they went in, mostly. One thing I remember was a guy, and I still don’t know his name, that walked in where we were in our small town, and everyone of them stood. He was older but not ancient. He nodded and smiled, but when about his business and left.. Just like a regular guy. I knew it was something so I whispered to my grandfather and asked who he was. While I don’t remember his name. I was 5 or 6. I do remember what he whispered back. He was awarded medal of honor. I had no clue until much later what that meant.
While the character of war has changed, what we lacked until recently, was the esteem for the men and their sacrifice for us and our country. I say until recently, because the last few years I have heard “Than you for your service”, more than in the rest of my life preceding the last few years. More music and video celebrating our servicemen and women. I have personally seen a group of stranger stand and clap as a group debarked a jet arriving back home. My daughter, while serving was thrilled to have met a man that served with Audi Murphy. And I’ve seen some rough men gathered in a circle holding hands praying unabashed, before they left.
That to say that I am hopeful.
Our heroes are there IMO. The man or woman sitting next to you. People of integrity, that do the right things day in and day out. When they are needed they will step up, that’s a fact. Lincoln, Churchill, and the list goes on were despised and when needed were there to serve. Notice I did not say perfect. Just willing.
Also IMO our peace time politicians have very little to offer the world. While I would rather see diplomacy than battle and sacrifice of our men and women, the talk to long and act to late. When they act they show too much restraint and or micromanage the men who know their duty and job.
I dunno, part of me says military service shoudl be required to vote or to govern. Another part of me says that to vote, a citizen in order to BE a citizen needs to pas a test to show they know more about how our country works than how to work the system for a paycheck. but I digress
Our heroes are there, maybe reading the blog, or maybe sitting next to you. We just need to call on them. Shake em and wake em up is all. As I said.. I will remain hopeful, and do what I can.
What do you think ? Off base?
GG58
Term limits and a fixed tax rate will fix the nation’s problems. Requiring some sort of federal service as a prerequisite for holding office and voting would suddenly fix so many problems (a la Heinlein in Starship Troopers of which the book was infinitely better than the low budget awful movie).
PR
I don`t remember having any Hero`s growing up, I probebly had some, just don`t remember them. I served with the United States Marine Corp in Vietnam 1966-67. I remember my fellow Marines, I know their names and I see them most every day, is all i have to do is look, their on my mind always. You can see them too, Type in ” circle of trees ” Valley Forge, Pa. there is 13 trees planted in their rememberly. I was suppose to be there but was somewhere else at the time it happened.
If some of you knew what McCain did, like some of us that was over there, you would have a different opinion of him. And ( goingray58 ) don`t be knocking down people that were drafted for this war, as most of us were drafted and served honorablely for God and country. Clinton, Bill was a draft dodger and was elected President. And now, how many of you, will serve God and country for what surely is going to happen,
I apollogize for the impression I left. I said it poorly obviously. All I meant was some went in and came out better, some didn’t. My uncle was one that didn’t. Either of them, they both served. They went in with no integrity and came out the same way. I meant no disrespect to anyone that served. Not at all. Everyone’s sacrifice is just that once there. It seemed like there were many in the rural south that were poor that I knew similarly.. But some I knew took advantage of the opportunity and grew..
Question for you… was that group more heavily drafted that those with privledge? They seemed to think so.
To answer your question.. Yes I will. The other option.. I can’t live with.
Again sorry for my lack of communication.
No offense meant.
GG58
Goingray58,
I don`t know about the rural south that were poor, but they were probably taken advanage of. I am from the rural north where mostly everyone were in the middle class. The draft board is the ones who draft you for service. I guess my number came up, even through i worked downstate in Flint,Mi. at G.M. But again I never knew any rich kids that were drafted. I hope that answers your question. Sorry for jumping on your post. You got to understand, some of the people that you are talking about, may have had it worse than the other ones, so they didn`t come out better. war is hell. have a nice day.
As an elected official during the Viet Nam War, my mom was drafted to set on the local draft board. That board used a rotary wheel not unlike that used to select members for a grand jury. The choice was locally random until later when the birthday numbering scheme was devised, which system was also, random. I overheard mom and dad talking about me having to volunteer, what with her on the draft board, but upon turning 18, the birthday lottery was in place and I escaped being called. Of course during college, and a lot older and wiser, I volunteered for Quantico upon granduation. To this day, I remember mom’s anguish when someone in the little community would get the bad news, or when a lad would come home without all of his parts.
Let us resolve never again to go to war without the entire nation being firmly committed.
PR
Thanks for an excellent article and sweet memories. As a boy, I went to the pool hall, drank a NU grape with peanuts in it and listened to the old men talk about WWII. Funny they didn’t speak of war but of experiences they had in the cities and with one another. Didn’t hear one brag about their heroics, just talked about the times and experiences. Great men, who did what they had to do to protect the USA and it’s freedoms. Sad where we have fallen. God forgive us and please protect us from ourselves. Keep Looking UP
You’re right of course JBernDrApt.
The men at the Rexall Drug Store would talk about wild times in Paris or London, or even New York City, or San Diego, but never about the friends who didn’t come home. One Saturday after we all had our haircuts, one man mentioned the fur lines (a most derogatory reference to the desperate frauleins in post WWII Germany). The looks that man received from his peers (as there were more than one of us lads hanging on to every word) ensured we didn’t learn anything more about whatever was fur lined in Berlin. Neither did we learn anything their personal horrors.
On of my favorite movies is THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Best_Years_of_Our_Lives.
I cannot recommend this movie highly enough. One of my favorite lines in that movie was spoken by the daughter of a vet, “I’m going to break that marriage up,” she said after realizing another vet with whom she was in love with, was trapped in a bad post war marriage. Before I know anything about love, I was in suddenly in love with Teresa Wright who spoke those words. Of course I was also in love with Amelia Earhart whom I knew would someday fly home and land at the local airport. I think I even had a poster of her on the wall of my bedroom.
PR