A soldier –
18 years old. Married. Marine Corps. Called up for duty in the Pacific, 1945. His unit never deployed as planned. Our government decided on another way to end the war, quickly, and with far less loss of life for both the Americans and the Japanese.
He and his brother are both Marine Corps veterans of WWII. Neither was killed in the war.
I visited his brother recently:
Looks like just about every other American small-town cemetery. Then I found the right place –
And then I zeroed in on my uncle’s place … and stayed a while –
The one with the flags. (Great job, cousins.)
Memorial Day is a personal family day for many Americans. Those who served in the armed forces, those who died for us, all those in uniform have made it possible for us to have “family days” now.
So, I guess Memorial Day is a day we can all take personally.
Symbol of a quiet inner place.
A blog of random observations and thoughts after quiet times in the Tunnel.
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HERE IS ONE OF HIS DESCENDANTS: My Great-Grandmother, Hilda. I admire her qualities of strength, endurance, duty, and hospitality towards all, for which she was known.
"HILDA"
The Spruce Tunnel 