Thinking about my dad on Memorial Day

My dad, Marion Johnson, circa 1943

My dad was born just before World War One, in 1915. He married in 1938, and in September 1943 he was drafted into the Army, at age 28. His wife was pregnant with their only daughter, who would be born a few months later, in December.

Dad had to miss out on the birth of his daughter, her first steps, her first words. He was overseas, fighting in France and Germany. He didn't get to come back home until the war was over in 1945. That was when he first met his daughter, at almost two years old. I can't even imagine what that had to have been like. My dad often wore his emotions on his sleeve, so I imagine there were tears of joy on his cheeks.

Dad's first marriage eventually collapsed, and he remarried. He and his second wife had three children; I am the eldest.

Dad very seldom spoke of his service, and never about the combat. His stories, when I could pry one out of him, were of the "human interest" kind. Running into his younger brother in France, finding a snake in his bivy, his disgust with the open toilet holes in the sidewalks in France. That kind of thing.

This sort of stoic "I'd rather not talk about it." attitude was widespread among the veterans of that war. But what they accomplished in overthrowing Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, the Japanese Empire, and a few assorted allies of theirs, was nothing short of stupendous.

Then, there was the post-war period, as Americans helped Germany and Japan to rebuild their destroyed nations and their economies. Now, those two countries are not only economic powerhouses, they are also staunch allies.

To bring it forward, I doubt that,when we finally fully disengage from Iraq and Afghanistan, those nations will be allies of ours. Perhaps on paper, but not serious allies.

Today, we solemnly remember those who have given their lives in the service of our country. In that respect, this post should be for Veterans Day, not Memorial Day. But, considering everything Dad lost during his service, especially the chance to really bond with his baby daughter, I'm going to say that part of my father did die in that war.

Well, I'm done here, for today. Stay tuned, my friends. Please, comment below, and don't forget to subscribe!

Ron out.