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May 22, 2003 I hope everyone has a happy Memorial Day. This year we have some very recent losses to remember. As I have come around to more conservative thinking, I appreciate those young people who are our military. This didn't happen until I was in my thirties. If I were in the military now I'd be considered an old man by those 18 year olds. In my family, the most notable military person would be my grandfather. He grew up in a very different age. As a boy Charles Lindbergh was his hero. He had been in a car accident while riding around town one night in Richmond. When he went to join the Army Air Corps they turned him down because he had been knocked unconscious for three days after the car accident. Back then, the assumed that this was evidence of neurological damage. He started working at an airfield doing janitorial work. Almost every penny that he made went to pay for piloting lessons. He had been very discouraged that he couldn't have his dream of joining the air corp. But unlike so many of us, this set back didn't stop him from pursuing his dream. The day after Pearl Harbor he went to sign up again. This time it was a different story. He was fit, and a pilot, and now they were not so picky about his being knocked out. In the Army Air Corp my grandfather was not a perfect soldier. He was a wild young man seeing the world for the first time. You dont have to try hard to imagine a bunch of rowdy young men away from their families for the first time. You do have to remember that these were desperate times. We forget World War II wasn't a sure thing, like Iraq. A radio commentator in England summed in up very well. When Germany invaded Poland he said, "Tonight the lights go out all over Europe. Nobody knows when they will ever come on again." In the Pacific, where my grandfather was stationed, these young pilots who many of had never been outside their home state, were now living in jungles. Flying long-range missions over water and at night, they bombed places like Rabul that they had never heard of, or seen in daylight. A number of my grandfather's friends didn't return from these missions. One of the few stories he told was of losing his waist gunner who was on his second or third combat mission. He flew B-25s. These were medium range bombers and had a reputation for being able to take a lot of damage and still fly. Landing was another issue. My grandfather was called a Japanese Ace. Six of the airplanes that he brought back never flew again. He never injured a crewman with one of these landings. An amazing feat when you consider that some on the islands they landed on had metal runways that literally stretched from water on one side, across the entire island, and ended with water on the other. He flew twenty-two missions. He came home to Richmond. And went back into the fighting for another twenty-two missions. When the war was over, he started a family, served in Korea and continued to fly. As the years went by, and the jet age took over, he was increasingly assigned non-piloting duty. Then the Air Force had a R.I.F., a reduction in force, where they release without warning many of the lower ranking officers. Most went on with their lives. My grandfather went to Washington and filed a suit. He eventually won the right to be able to reenlist. This means he started out as a corpsman. He had been a Captain. Can you imagine starting school or your career over from the bottom? Within about two years he was back to his former rank. He went on to be a flight instructor and an officer in the Strategic Air Command. He was in Florida during the Bay of Pigs ready to go if the call came. He retired in 1966 after twenty- two years of active service. So why haven't you heard of Lt. Col. Lyell? With no disrespect to him, he was carrying out his duty and wasnt doing anything extraordinary for that time. By comparison, our losses in Iraq were light, and most from battlefield errors or equipment failures. Few were enemy kills. We were called conquerors, bullies, and mass civilian casualties were predicted. We didn't massacre anyone who didn't want to fight and we didn't get stuck in a quagmire. Those troops made me very proud with their restraint, their humanity, and their fortitude. Like my grandfather, there are thousands of Americans soldiers whose stories we won't ever know. The world won't ever know. This Memorial day I'll put out my flag. I'll take a few minutes to be grateful and sad that my grandfather has passed away. My Uncle Bill, who still lives in Richmond, called my grandfather "a giant." And he was so right. We have so many giants still among us from this new generation of soldiers. We won't know their stories and they are fine with that fact. They didn't serve their country for recognition. But they do deserve our thanks. Enjoy the hot dogs, the watermelon, and some special time with your loved ones. Happy Memorial Day! ------------ About the author: Edward Lyell is politically active in New Mexico and has been a small business owner and currently works as professional counselor. Once a great Democrat, he became another one of the disenfranchised during the Clinton presidency. He categorizes himself as a firm believer in Objectivism, free trade, and the Constitution. Email Edward Lyell: Edsterl@aol.com Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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