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A Veteran's Day Reminiscence

By Roger Thorndike

Every Memorial Day and Veterans Day, my little brother calls me up, thanking me for my service; bless his heart, I quietly shake my head thinking, "what's he know?", whereupon I thank him for thanking me (what can I say?—except some sound-bite for the following).

I quit college in CT; California Dreamin', jumped on a bus for LA. A machinist's apprentice, it wasn't long before the Draft Board was hot on my six; "you WILL report in two weeks for your Induction." I did what I had to do to avoid conscription as a grunt to die face down in the mud for no good reason, certainly not defending my country. So, I went to the Navy (I like ships and aircraft)—"sorry, son, we're full up." Seems I wasn't alone. Next was the Air Force (I like aircraft), glad I paid attention in high school and had "hobbies", aced their tests, any job I wanted, a 462—Fighter Aircraft Weapons Systems Tech. Great tech school, learned a lot, ain't forgot. Missiles and nukes on F-101s with the 444th FIS Charleston, SC, Air Defense Command NORAD (our military actually defending America – imagine that). Then '69, minigunships in 'Nam (Spooky, Shadow, Green Hornets)—beautiful country, beautiful people, encumbered with an ugly, horrible, senseless war.

I tried not to think about what I was doing there (dominos?)—Dear Lord, forgive me. Wasn't in for rank or ribbons; just keep your head on a swivel, do your time, and get out. Every day now, I thank God I got back to the World with all my parts and most of my marbles, kissed the tarmac (no lie), and married that sweet girl who waited on pins and needles for me. No, I don't think you really need to see, smell and taste that putrid, hideous, grotesque evilness of war to know it for what it is. Still, it sure helps to cement a conviction that these foreign wars of empire are not, and never were, in the interests of America, but for the Deep Dark few livin' large off the many, triple-distilled Purest Evil tirelessly seeking to infect the Hearts of Man. USMC Major General Smedley Butler long ago spoke the unvarnished truth in his book War is a Racket. And whatever happened to "peace, commerce, and honest friendship with all nations—entangling alliances with none," Da?

Roger Thorndike is a Christian, husband, father, grandfather; rural, Southern, Patriot, pissed.