And This Day

When I was a child, November 11 was known as Armistice Day. It was a commemoration of the signing of the armistice at the end of WWI. Now it is Veterans Day, made so in 1954, to honor all who have served this country in war.

My dad's brother, my Uncle Clyde, served in the Navy during World War II. I know little of that service, except for the stories he told about ship life, particularly their dealings with sea gulls. He said they found the gulls to be very annoying and would try tricks on them.

Like this one: secure two hot dogs to a long piece of string, one at each end, then throw it high into the air and watch what happens when two sea gulls grab hold. I liked the story, liked the picture I got in my mind, knew my dad would never do such a thing, but Uncle Clyde was nothing like my dad.

I know that his service during the war involved more than birds, and I would like to say thank you to him for it. I did not thank him while he lived.

My brother, Bill, served in the Marine Corps during the early 1950s, but not in Korea. I know he was stationed on Adak, one of the islands of the Aleutians, the part of Alaska that curves far out into the water between the Bering Sea and the North Pacific Ocean. I know that part of his duty there was to stand watch on top of a building on the base, and once, while performing that duty, he was blown off the building by the wind. In the fall, he broke his ankle. I don't know if that's a reason to honor him, but why not? He did his service honorably.