–{This post is somewhat touched off by Patrick Cahalan’s over at The League; his story has some similarities to my own. Due in part to the lesser information I have on hand, and in part to the anonymity level of this blog vs the League, I’m going to be slightly vague. I hope my point comes across, though.– Web
Today is Veteran’s Day. It’s supposed to be a day where ALL of America honors our veterans of military service. Those who served and lived, those who served and didn’t come home. Those who served in time of war, those who served in times without.
A lot of stories of remembrance will go out today. For my part, I honor my currently living grandfather and uncle, who have served in various capacities in the Army. I honor another uncle, who served with distinction in the air force. I honor my cousin, currently in the US Navy and training to become an officer. I honor my friends who have served, and the family of friends who have served or are currently serving.
And I honor my other grandfather. He died when I was nine. His tale is not so grand. He enlisted in the US Army during World War II. War did terrible things to him - physical and mental both. By all accounts, he and my father were never on very good terms, something I know still haunts my father to this day because they never did reconcile; my father was mostly raised by my great-grandmother, taking care of his own siblings while my grandmother tried to take care of my grandfather. My grandfather was physically disabled, mentally destroyed, and spent most of his day in a bottle. He died when I was 9 years old in a VA hospital, the result of complications from diabetes and alcoholism. To the best of my knowledge, this is the ONLY time after his discharge when the US government or army gave a crap about him.
The most vivid memory I have of my grandfather is from a christmas eve when he, my grandmother, and my aunts and uncles came over to visit. It was one of my father’s attempts to make things better between them. I remember him sitting in a recliner, watching TV, drinking a few beers as the two attempted to talk with each other, or at least my dad was trying to talk with him. I remember going over to give him a hug; I don’t remember being hugged back. I’m not certain he was coherent enough to do so. A little over 6 months after that, he was gone.
Because of this, Veteran’s Day always carries mixed emotions for me. On the one hand, I have relatives alive to thank and remember. I have friends, and their family, to think of as well.
On the other… I remember my grandfather. And every year at this time, I see a bunch of politicians getting up and making speeches. Some do so sincerely. Some are veterans themselves. Some say something respectful, meaningful, and get it right. Others… well, some of them are trying to claim all the veterans to themselves. Trying to claim that “the other side” doesn’t care about the military, doesn’t care about the veterans. And that infuriates me to an endless degree, because Veteran’s day is NOT supposed to be about politics. I want to grab them by the shirt. I want to shake them. I want to shout at them. I want to say “Where the hell was your political party when my grandfather needed help? Where the hell was your political party when my father and siblings were put through all the hurt of watching a family member in that pain? Where the hell was your political party for all the other veterans who went through things similar to what my grandfather went through?” I want to look them dead in the eye and ask them “where the hell were you, where the FUCK was your supposed caring about the veterans, when the neglect you heaped on them stole my grandfather from his family?”
Rest in peace, Grandpa R. You deserved so much better.
I’m sorry, Web. One of my grandfathers was in WWII too. He spent some time in a German POW camp. He also drank and smoked a lot — men of that era just did, I think. I’ll bet your dad neither smoked nor drank in response. (The other grandfather was in the Spanish-American War, if you can believe that! He also smoked and ultimately died of emphysema complications.)
Used to be, everyone had parents who at least served in the military. All three of our kids’ grandfathers did. Now it’s a lot rarer.
Comment by stone — November 11, 2011 @ 12:24 pm
Both of my grandfathers were in WW2, in different capacities. My maternal grandfather was in a much more non-combat type role; my paternal grandfather, Grandpa R, is the one who went through the roughest part with everything that means.
My dad will have the occasional beer or wine, but he is not a drinker by nature, and he doesn’t smoke, and I’ve never seen him get “drunk.” Two canned beers over the course of a football game is pretty much the limit of what I’ve seen him have.
There may be something to what you say in that. I can’t say for certain how much of my father’s lack of drinking is a response to my grandfather’s alcoholism, and how much of it is due to his upbringing by my great-grandmother (who, as far as I know, was a complete teetotaler except for the tiny sip she’d get sunday morning at church). It’s hard to say.
Comment by web — November 11, 2011 @ 1:01 pm
The other grandfather was in the Spanish-American War, if you can believe that!
When I was a child there was a man in our neighborhood, a very well-to-do man who owned all sorts of commercial properties in town, who was a veteran of the Spanish-American War. He also had graduated from Yale University just before 1900. Granted, he was a very old man, and I was a very young child, but it still makes me feel ancient.
Comment by Peter — November 11, 2011 @ 5:50 pm
For what it’s worth, I don’t drink much alcohol, partly because I just don’t like it, but also partly in response to the fact that my parents are heavy drinkers and extremely annoying when drunk.
Comment by Brandon — November 11, 2011 @ 9:09 pm
Clancy’s family history of alcoholism was a big part of her determination not to drink. On the other hand, it never stopped me.
Comment by trumwill — November 11, 2011 @ 10:45 pm
“4.For what it’s worth, I don’t drink much alcohol, partly because I just don’t like it, but also partly in response to the fact that my parents are heavy drinkers and extremely annoying when drunk. ”
I worry about at what point we should work harder to shield our children from our alcohol usage. Right now there is a pretty big bar in the kitchen which fascinates the boys with all its pretty bottles.
“On the other hand, it never stopped me.”
For a Southern man, Will, you actually don’t seem to drink much. For instance, you don’t keep liquor in your house and you never mention wine. Do you even keep beer around as a staple?
Comment by stone — November 13, 2011 @ 2:14 pm
Neither I nor Mr. Tone’s father drink regularly, and they have joked and commented disapprovingly about our own drinking.
Comment by stone — November 13, 2011 @ 2:16 pm
For a Southern man, Will, you actually don’t seem to drink much. For instance, you don’t keep liquor in your house and you never mention wine. Do you even keep beer around as a staple?
I used to, but I have slowed down a lot. I do have a little beer around the house for days where I need something to loosen my nerves. I used to keep some Rum around, but haven’t in a while. I used to hate the taste of wine, but I’m coming around on it.
A lot of it comes down to the wife. It’s less fun drinking alone.
Comment by trumwill — November 13, 2011 @ 7:05 pm
Where I work, Veteran’s Day is ignored. Also interesting, the corporate website doesn’t even make a pretense of hiring vets.
Comment by Kirk — November 15, 2011 @ 8:41 am
Kirk, that’s weird for a factory. Maybe there are so many vets they don’t need to make a big point of it? Unless it’s all foreigners. Nevertheless, I bet bringing that up in a job interview there scores points.
Comment by stone — November 15, 2011 @ 9:06 am