Memorial Day Remembrance

Memorial Day is the day to remember and thank all those who have served in the US Military.  The vast majority have served with integrity and good heart, and I do thank them and honor their memories.  I like to remember my dad and his family on Memorial Day, since they served our country well.

My Uncle Paul Warner served in the 2nd World War, was there on D Day, and helped liberate Dachau.  He lived in Germany for 2 years afterward.  He never talked about it, and did not want to.  I cannot imagine the horrors he saw.  Also, I have realized that I cannot find one image of Paul in uniform.  He was 12 years older than my father, and perhaps his son has those photos, but I cannot find a single one in my family collection. I do know he didn’t like to think about his time there, when I visited Munich and Dachau he was flabbergasted.  What on earth would she want to go to that hell hole for?  he asked my Dad.  I tried to question him a little bit, but Paul wasn’t talking.  I believe he saw hell when he was over there.

My Uncle Chappy (Charles) Warner served at the front during the Korean War, only to come home and die in a terrible accident 6 months later. My grandmother gave me all of the letters and photos he sent her during his tour. I never met him, but I know my father felt his loss deeply, as did the rest of the family.  He always seemed such a romantic and tragic figure to me, I guess he still does.

Dad, or Herm Warner, joined the Navy when he was 17 years old, and the war was winding down.  He was shipped out to the Pacific fleet in San Diego.  My father’s dream had always been to go to college, and he saw the Navy as the way to achieve his goal.  He served 5 or 6 years, 4 of them going to college.  Thank you FDR for the GI Bill!

One would think that 8 years in the Navy would be enough to serve one’s nation, but my dad was drafted into the Army during the Korean War.  He did everything possible to avoid being drafted, pointing out that he had already served, he was 28 years old and about to start a business and a family.  Uncle Sam did not care about that, and off Dad went.  After boot camp, being a drill sergeant, and being given the impression he was headed to the infantry in Korea, he was suddenly stationed outside of DC, in Silver Springs, MD, to serve in the Central Intelligence Corps.  Mom moved to be with him and worked at the base.  She said dad would come home with briefcases locked up, top secret, eyes only.  I asked him about that, and he responded that he disliked his work for the CIC, he knew “things” he did not want to know, and worked on “things” he did not want to have any part of.  And no, he never told me one damned secret even though I pestered him forever about it.  “Just one”, I would beg. He did tell me that the government did “things” he could never have imagined. It’s pretty difficult for me to imagine my dad in the military because, though I am sure he did his duty and did it impeccably, he had such a gentle soul. (I’m not saying he didn’t have a temper, because he most definitely did.) My father never hunted, abhorred violence and never allowed a firearm of any kind in our home.  “Having a gun around is an invitation to getting shot,” he would say.  My uncle bought my brother a BB Gun for Christmas one year, but Dad confiscated it immediately and it was gone, never to be seen again.  I would have liked to have heard the conversation between my dad and my uncle after that! Ha ha.  I’m sure that would have been entertaining. You know, my dad would say that serving in the military taught discipline, and a year or two of military service wasn’t a bad thing for young men growing up.  However, as my brother crept toward the age of 18, my dad became pretty vocal about the fact that “his son would never serve in Viet Nam. I’ll send him to Canada if I have to”.   From what I could piece together, the similarities between the Korean War and the Vietnam War were many, and dad considered our involvement in Vietnam “inappropriate”.  He respected the soldiers, but did not want his son to have anything to do with “that war”.  I guess knowing the “things” he did about what went on in Korea made him adamant that my brother would never serve in Vietnam.  Fortunately, the war ended, though most everyone would agree it didn’t end soon enough.

Dad’s mother’s family was Mennonite when they came from Germany, and I often think this influenced his view of guns and war.  Mennonites are non violent.  And yet my dad’s ancestor, Jacob Werner, was a Hessian soldier who was paid to fight on the side of the British during the Revolutionary War.  He quickly took the side of the Colonials, and stayed in America after the war ended. Who knows?  Maybe Jacob fought against my husband’s illustrious ancestor, General Nathaniel Greene, Washington’s 2nd in command! Obviously, my father’s stories and peaceful nature influenced my views. I’m sure there are many who would argue his positions, and that’s okay, he always enjoyed a good discussion.  But I have to say I am glad I was raised by my dad, and his non-violent, gentle soul.  I miss him, and I’m sad that my children were never lucky enough to know him.

Thanks to all who serve, and who have served.