Yesterday was Memorial Day… which I know is a time to reflect and be thankful that so many are willing to fight and risk their lives for the freedoms that I tend to take for granted. And I do appreciate them… The nameless soldiers I’ll never know or meet… The spouses of friends who mean the world to me… the friends I know who have served or are still serving for something they believe in with all of their heart.
Mostly though, I think about my grandfather. A man I was fortunate enough to know far longer and more personally than several of my cousins…even though some of them lived much MUCH closer… mostly because I’m the oldest (well, my brother is older, but we don’t talk about him). And yet… even though I look at our relationship with amazing fondness for the sheer volume of quality time I was fortunate enough to share with him, I never knew about his service in the war until he was already gone.
He never talked about the war. Not even with my mom interestingly enough. He never shared much about how he “Flew the Hump” which, if you don’t know was the flight path over the Himalayan Mountains from India to China to resupply the war effort during WWII… It was dangerous and in fact:
“From December 1st, 1942 to November 16th, 1945, pilots and crews delivered a total of 776,653 tons of war materials at the cost of 910 crewmen, 130 passengers, 594 planes and only 75 men rescued. A terrible price to pay, but these pilots and crew members delivered.” – The Flying Tigers 69th DRS Association
what a wonderful tribute to your grandfather. Keep on keeping his memory alive and share it with your children often. xo