"Memorial Day..."

I did something this Memorial Day afternoon... that I started doing a few years ago...


It really isn't much... but I go buy  a bunch of these small American Flags...

... then I go to several of our local cemeteries... and seek out the grave sites of American servicemen and women... and place these small flags at their headstones...


It's not much, but it is something that I like to do... a very small way of saying 'thank you' to these real American heroes...

There are two that really stand out to me...

1st Lt. Linwood P. Ingram

died May 28, 1944

... his headstone says he was shot down over the Pacific...

Pfc Sherwood Dudley Henry

Killed at Ramagen Bridgehead

Germany

March 17, 1945

I have never seen any activity at the grave sites of these two men... given the dates of their deaths, it's probable that their families have died out... or moved away...

I felt that on at least one day a year, someone needed to acknowledge 

the lives and deaths of these two men...

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Memorial Day was established to honor the memory and lives of those men and women killed during the war... but as we all know, even the ones that return have left parts of their lives behind...

I came along late in my Mom's and Dad's lives... many  who didn't know us thought Mom and Dad were my grandparents...  I have three siblings old enough to be my parents...  

Having said that...

My Dad had a friend... an old long time friend... John Otis Crosby... he and his brother, Glen Crosby, were among the first Americans to go to Europe in 1917 to fight in World War I...

Glen gathered the dubious distinction of being one of the first American soldiers to die in Europe during WWI.  "Uncle Otis"... as we all affectionately knew him... would tell us about his times in Europe... one story that I will never forget him telling is of this one night... he was responsible for firing a Browning Water Cooled Machine Gun across 'No Man's Land'... He told me... "if we didn't do this, those 'sons-a-bitches' would crawl across there, slit our throats... and leave us all dead... He told me of this one night.. when the water pump on his machine gun malfunctioned...

He told me that they didn't dare stop... to take the time to change out the water pump... because they could be killed that quickly and easily...  He said that as he continued to fire, the tip of the barrel turned red...  and then orange... then blue... and then white... and Uncle Otis told me that white hot was as hot as metal could get...  and that bits of the barrel started sticking to the bullets being fired across the field... you could look at his eyes as he told this... and tell that he was back in Europe many many years ago...

Uncle Otis came home... but he left a great part of himself there...

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My oldest sister's husband, Paul W. Clements... graduated from Corinth, MS high school... and was promptly drafted into the army... WWII was raging at the time... and plans were being laid for the invasion of France... the attempt to drive the German army out of France... and Belgium... and back into Germany...

"Uncle Paul"... as we called him... the age difference was too much, we felt, to simply call him by his first name...  went away to training... and was sent to England... and on the evening of June 5th, 1944, boarded one of the vessel that would take him along with many many others to Normandy... For all of the training and all that "Uncle Paul" experienced, his first day of combat was on Omaha Beach...

Being kids, we didn't totally understand all that he had done... all he had accomplished... and we would get him to tell us about his exploits on the beach... and in France...

He would tell us of when the front of his  landing craft would open... and of all the smoke and machine gun fire coming from the cliffs... and of all the bodies on the beach... and in the water... I will never forget him telling me about how red the water was... from the soldiers who had been shot and had bled into the water...

I will always remember that he told me that he and several of his buddies from Corinth High School were in the same division... and of how he was the only one that got off the beach alive... that didn't have the impact on me then... that it has on me now...

He told me of having been shot after they moved inland from the beach... that he and several others were left in a farm house... and told that rear support was on its way... medical help would be there soon... and his outfit moved on... Uncle Paul was the only one fit enough to handle a rifle... I remember him telling me of hearing voices... and when they became understandable... the voices were German... and that he could hear steps approaching the door to the farm house... that the door knob turned and the door opened... and of how he held his M-1 Garand at the door...

... and that a voice spoke out from the road... and whoever was about to enter... walked away... leaving the door ajar... "Uncle Paul" told me too many times... "I should have died that day... we all should have..."

He later wound up in Belgium... and was surrounded at 'The Battle of the Bulge"... this farm boy from Mississippi...

As he got older, he wasn't able to talk about it any more... and it got to the point where my sister said she would have to turn off the television when they started talking about the anniversary dates of D-Day...

"Uncle Paul" died eight years ago... but he left a big part of his life there in Europe...

I remember being a little boy... and being with an older brother of mine... and he was talking to a friend of his who was home on leave from Viet Nam... he had finished a tour of duty... he got to come home for 30 days... and he had volunteered to return to Viet Nam...

I saw him and my brother looking at photos... you know those photo holders that mens wallets used to carry... they kind of folded... and you could put a host of photos in them... I figured they were looking at photos of girl friends... I wanted to see... so I moved closer...

The photos were of Viet Cong he had shot and killed...

Very Graphic... very explicit...  I shouldn't have seen them...

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So... we honor these men and women... for their service... for their sacrifices... but I don't think we will ever understand the extent to which they gave their innocence... things they had to do to survive...  things that were done so we can continue to live in the kind of country and society that we have...

Doughboy Statue

Overton Park

Memphis, TN

~Shoes~