07DEC08
It's Sunday. December Seventh. So it was sixty-six years ago that the Japanese Imperial Navy attacked Pearl Harbor. When I was a little kid it was twenty- something years. Many of the parents in our neighborhood would remember this day. Most of my friends had fathers who fought in the war, with a few exceptions. Some of the younger dads served in Korea. I had a sixth grade teacher who fought in WWII, Korea and then spent some time in Vietnam in the early days of our involvement there. He was from North Carolina originally. His wife was from New Jersey. They were both teachers. He spent twenty-five years in the Army. He retired in 1965. I was in his sixth grade class in 1973.
I had a friend who lived on the block behind me. His grandparents came from Ireland. His father made a combat jump with the 82nd on D-Day. We only knew that because my friend's mother told us. His father never talked about it. His father was a cop in Newark. My old friend from the neighborhood is a cop too. State Police. It's an Irish thing I guess.
Another friend of mine. A very good friend. His father had been an Army Medic. He was tall and lean. He was very soft spoken but very tough. He was a truck mechanic at one of the big breweries in Newark. I broke my arm when I was seven. A stupid accident. The result of doing something stupid. Actually I was trying to fly but that's another story. Anyway, my friend's father made a kick ass splint and he made it very quickly. The bone was sticking out of my fore arm so he used rolled up newspaper and towels. The doctors at the hospital were impressed with the improvised dressing. They wanted to know who had done that. My mother told them it had been our neighbor and that he had been an Army Medic. That seemed to make sense to the doctors at the hospital.
I had a neighbor three doors down, to the north of my house. He lost his legs in WWII. He was Italian. He was very nice. When I was maybe five or six years old I asked him what happened to his legs. I thought he said he lost them in the water. So for quite some time I was thinking a shark bit them off or something. What he actually said was the war. Not the water.
In my high school, one of the administrators had been a young officer in the 82nd. He had been at that battle in Holland. It was a bridge that the paratroopers were trying to hang on to before the Germans could blow it up. The paratroopers were way out in front of their lines. They were on their own. They took some serious casualties. Someone made a movie about it once. The movie was called A Bridge Too Far. I think. Anyway, he was one of the guys you got sent to see when you screwed up and got in trouble. I knew him quite well. I remember the day I told him that my future plans involved the Army and airborne school. I told him I wanted to be a Ranger. I remember how he smiled. His mouth smiled but the rest of his face stayed stone cold. He told me I had better start doing some push-ups. He told me I'd better start running every day. I told him that I was in good shape. He agreed. He said I was in good shape, for a civilian. He told me that I'd better start getting mentally tough as well. He smiled again. That stone face smile. He just said good luck with that and sent me out of his office without any disciplinary action taken for whatever infraction it was that landed me there in the first place.
My own father and his older brother served. Other than anecdotal stories they never talked about it either. Ever.
Hey Tommy. It's been a while I know. My wife is doing okay I guess. Well, as okay as one can expect. We had a big argument yesterday. I wrote all this stuff about December 7th because I don't want to deal with the reality. I still don't want to so I won't. I will say this Tommy. I have a lot of work to do. I said some really stupid things yesterday. My biggest mistake was saying anything at all. Whenever I try to say what I think or feel, it's always a lame attempt at defending myself. It always comes out wrong. I just don't have what it takes to be a vocal person. Not when it comes to real stuff anyway. I can shoot the shit all day long about nothing. When it comes to real stuff I'm just better off keeping my mouth shut. You know what I mean Tommy.
I had a friend who lived on the block behind me. His grandparents came from Ireland. His father made a combat jump with the 82nd on D-Day. We only knew that because my friend's mother told us. His father never talked about it. His father was a cop in Newark. My old friend from the neighborhood is a cop too. State Police. It's an Irish thing I guess.
Another friend of mine. A very good friend. His father had been an Army Medic. He was tall and lean. He was very soft spoken but very tough. He was a truck mechanic at one of the big breweries in Newark. I broke my arm when I was seven. A stupid accident. The result of doing something stupid. Actually I was trying to fly but that's another story. Anyway, my friend's father made a kick ass splint and he made it very quickly. The bone was sticking out of my fore arm so he used rolled up newspaper and towels. The doctors at the hospital were impressed with the improvised dressing. They wanted to know who had done that. My mother told them it had been our neighbor and that he had been an Army Medic. That seemed to make sense to the doctors at the hospital.
I had a neighbor three doors down, to the north of my house. He lost his legs in WWII. He was Italian. He was very nice. When I was maybe five or six years old I asked him what happened to his legs. I thought he said he lost them in the water. So for quite some time I was thinking a shark bit them off or something. What he actually said was the war. Not the water.
In my high school, one of the administrators had been a young officer in the 82nd. He had been at that battle in Holland. It was a bridge that the paratroopers were trying to hang on to before the Germans could blow it up. The paratroopers were way out in front of their lines. They were on their own. They took some serious casualties. Someone made a movie about it once. The movie was called A Bridge Too Far. I think. Anyway, he was one of the guys you got sent to see when you screwed up and got in trouble. I knew him quite well. I remember the day I told him that my future plans involved the Army and airborne school. I told him I wanted to be a Ranger. I remember how he smiled. His mouth smiled but the rest of his face stayed stone cold. He told me I had better start doing some push-ups. He told me I'd better start running every day. I told him that I was in good shape. He agreed. He said I was in good shape, for a civilian. He told me that I'd better start getting mentally tough as well. He smiled again. That stone face smile. He just said good luck with that and sent me out of his office without any disciplinary action taken for whatever infraction it was that landed me there in the first place.
My own father and his older brother served. Other than anecdotal stories they never talked about it either. Ever.
Hey Tommy. It's been a while I know. My wife is doing okay I guess. Well, as okay as one can expect. We had a big argument yesterday. I wrote all this stuff about December 7th because I don't want to deal with the reality. I still don't want to so I won't. I will say this Tommy. I have a lot of work to do. I said some really stupid things yesterday. My biggest mistake was saying anything at all. Whenever I try to say what I think or feel, it's always a lame attempt at defending myself. It always comes out wrong. I just don't have what it takes to be a vocal person. Not when it comes to real stuff anyway. I can shoot the shit all day long about nothing. When it comes to real stuff I'm just better off keeping my mouth shut. You know what I mean Tommy.
posted by Squarehead at 9:05 AM
1 Comments:
I don't think any veteran who saw combat can easily talk about it. My uncle served in the South Pacific (Peleliu) and rarely opened up about his experiences unless he was in the company of his fellow survivors.
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