Happy (Belated...) Birthday, US Air Force!

 Last week, on September 17th, the United States Air Force celebrated a birthday.

I've always had a fasciation with the air force. I credit a few things for this. First, I grew up a few miles from an air force base, Hill AFB, specifically. I remember seeing, then hearing fighter jets scream overhead...F-4s, then F-16s, now F-35s. Though I never seriously considered enlisting, if I did I think I would have tied joining the Air Force.

The second reason the Air Force interests me is because for years--decades, even--I thought my father served in the US Air Force during World War II. This was perhaps the greatest reason why the Air Force fascinates me. Now, if you know anything about the United States involvement in WWII, you know that the US Air Force did not exist during the war. Before the Air Force existed, air corps belonged to the Army, Navy, and Marines. My father was assigned to the Army Air Corp.

For a child growing up without a father, I think I was drawn to things associated with him. Whenever I see WWII footage or see a picture of a B-17, I think of him.

Happy birthday, US Air Force. The world has entirely changed since you were born. I wonder what you'll see in the next seventy-six years.

I Never Knew About This...Someone In The Family Passed Away At Pearl Harbor

 I signed up with FamilySearch a few years ago. It's a website operated through the LDS Church that tracks genealogy, and because I signed up with them, I got an e-mail a few days ago about a relative that passed away at Pearl Harbor.

I thought it was a mistake. I didn't know of any relative that passed away that day.

Turns out, I was wrong. 

I had no idea I was related to anyone who passed away eighty years ago today. On the page that gives me information about this person, there's a link to see how Byron Dalley Mason and I are related. The connection is, in a word, "distant." Bryon was my great-grandfather's sister's grandson. Still, I had no idea.

When I was a teenager, I visited the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor. It's an amazingly somber and hallowed shrine to those fallen. I learned more of how that battleship suffered more than the others. If I remember correctly, the night before a musical group from the Arizona won a talent contest and part of their reward for winning was to sleep in. In reading of Byron, it was noted he was active in music and drama in high school. I wonder if he was part of the musicians that participated in the contest.

Of course, it's impossible to know if they had not been allowed to sleep in, would more of them survived. I suppose it really doesn't matter. What happened happened.

Since my father served in WWII I've always had respect and appreciation for those who went to war, not just WWII, but all wars. The horrific events of Pearl Harbor seemed distant to me, not personal. Even though Byron was not a close relative, it brought the events that happened on that day closer. It's been eighty years...such a shame Byron never got to come home and have a family of his own and create another line of distant relatives I would probably not know about.

Wrist Art...

 

It started with a simple nylon band. I actually found it in a grocery store parking lot. I went home, washed it with soap and wore it around. I wore it until it stretched--so much so--I can no longer wear it because it just falls off.

But something interesting happened when I put it on.

I liked it.

Now, I'm not one for jewelry, far from it. I wear my wedding band and that's about it.

After we moved, I came across another thing to place on my left wrist...a memento from my father, something he picked up in WWII. It has an US eagle with the word ENGLAND and E.T.O on one side, and U.S.A. and 1945 on the other side. On the underside is written "With Love" in cursive. My guess is it's something a G.I. would have picked up for a girlfriend/wife (or both...). A little research told me the E.T.O. stands for "European Theater of Operations." My dad'd not around for me to ask him if he picked it up as part of a B-17 crew while in England, or maybe he got it later.

The last item to my collection I bought--the only one I bought. It's a band with small what appear to be lava rocks and mini-carved skulls. I like it because it shouldn't stretch out so unless the thin wire connecting them all together breaks, I'll be okay.

It's been more than a year since I started displaying my wrist art. So far, I've continued and I'll probably keep going with it. Like I said, I'm not much for jewelry, but I guess a little is okay.

Veterans Day...2020

 I can't imagine the kind of life my father lived growing up. Born in 1924, spent his teens during the Great Depression, enlisted in WWII. Came home, got his degree, became a deputy sheriff, an engineer, a judge, a husband and a father.

He was one of thousands who served his country, and another who is no longer with us.

I've written of my father many times on this blog--perhaps more than any other single person.

And I'll most likely keep doing it.

Today, our country honors those who served. They lived a life and paid a price we can't understand. I'll be forever grateful to them for it.

The National Geographic Channel's "The Mighty Eighth"...

I came across the show by accident last week, but it was almost over. So, I set the DVR to record it when it came on again. Today I watch it.

I'm glad I did.

It was the National Geographic Channel's The Mighty Eighth; Heroes of the Sky. 

There's been books written, movies filmed, documentaries made about the battles over the skies of Europe during World War Two. I watched the program with interest, you see, my father was one of those tens of thousands of soldiers who went to England and thankfully, he returned.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to ever talk to him about his experiences, and maybe he wouldn't even want to discuss it, but I think there would be some details he could tell his children about. He passed away when I was eight-years old, and a child had other things on his mind to ask his father.

The majority of the documentary focused on the problems the Eighth Air Corp had between 1942 and 1944 when they suffered huge losses. My father enlisted and was sent oversees in 1944, near the end of the war. I don't even know how many missions he flew, and being a tail gunner on a B-17, I wonder if he had any stories of engaging the enemy.

This weekend, we turn our attention to those who serve and bled and died for us. It's a debt that forever remains unpaid, because there's no way for us to repay it. Thanks Dad, for all you did, and thanks to the others who did the same.

May 4th...It Means Something Else To The Danes

While many in the world are celebrating all things Geek--I myself am currently wearing my only StarWars shirt and the only piece of Geek clothing I own--in a small country atop Europe looks upon May 4th under a different light.

May 4th is a day of freedom.

The Denmark.DK Instagram account (Denmark.DK) posted two pictures about the significance of May 4th for their country. Today marks the 75th anniversary of the German withdrawal from Denmark.

Back in 1986 I was told a story from someone who lived through those years of Nazi Occupation. 

And I remember the story she told me of the day the Germans left.

Jytta Svendsen was a teenager living in Odense, Denmark on 5/4/45. The Germans required all citizens of the city to line up along the main road through the center of town to watch their captors leave. As Jytta stood with the others the Germans opened fire on the people lining the street. The woman next to Jytta was hit and she dropped. Jytta ran and hid inside a drug store. She never knew what happened to the woman next to her. Just remembering her tell the story brings back the horror of her story, terrible times of history that she lived through, that she survived.

Jytta passed away, years after her amazing husband Svend left us, in the summer of 2007. I was unable to attend her funeral since it fell on the same day as my mother's. As the years pass, fewer and fewer of those who remember the dark days and the events exist only in histories.

Today Danes put up candles in their windows, the flame representing freedom from tyranny and the start of a new chapter in their millennia-long history. Sure, it's fun to put on Geeky clothes and watch your favorite Star Wars film or sharing a funny meme. But, in a small European country the heat from a simple candle warms the world and gives us all hope.

You Speak German? Ja...Kind Of

For the past week, I have stared at this piece of paper literally hundreds of times. I repeated those words, translated to German, for an audition.

Hundreds of times...

Earlier in the week I submitted my resume and headshot for an audition. The part is for a pre-WWII Nazi instigator. I was asked to submit this information because I have a little knowledge of the German language. Of course, it's been almost 30 years since I did anything with my German, and to be honest, I wasn't all that fluent back then.

I've never auditioned for a feature film before. Thanks to a good friend who offered some incredibly valuable advice, I wasn't as nervous and I could have been. My main fear--completely botching the German. I knew what the words meant and I have recited them over and over and over and over and over and over again. I was ready, but still...when you're in the room with the decision makers, my nerves have been known to get the best of me.

My main goal was to not screw up, not have to re-start because I said "von" with a "V" sound and not a "F" sound as it should be pronounced. 

I'm happy to say, I did not embarrass myself. The words came out pretty much as they should have and I got through the audition feeling good. That doesn't always happen. At least, if I don't get the part, I feel good about how I did.

There's a lot of things that go through my mind when I audition. The trick--at least for me--is to eliminate as many of those things, the things that have nothing to do with the words I'm saying, from the audition. Focus on what you're trying to communicate to the camera, and by extension, the audience. Seeing as how this was my first time doing this, we'll see how successful I was. Time will tell.

Something I Saw For The First Time...

Over the past eight, almost nine years, I've sometimes used the same item for my blog posts. I think the photo I have of my dad and four of his brothers has been used the most. I find reason to dust it off and include it in a blog post at least a couple of times a year, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, even my dad's birthday. And, another thing I could have included is on the back page of that newspaper clipping are stories of two other uncles, Jack and Dave, who served in the armed services.

I've included this photo many times because, after all, there's no way I can honor these men and the men and women of their generation enough.

I like to include this photo in my posts. I think it's cool to have such a direct connection to a family that sent five brothers to war at the same time. Not only did I think it was cool, I thought it was unique, too, sort of like in the film, Saving Private Ryan. Five siblings--all served in the same conflict.

Turns out, this may not be as unique as I once thought.

This last week, after I posted the picture yet again, I read something for the first time. The last paragraph of the story caught my attention. If you can't read the paragraph, it reads, 

"Other Jefferson county families to furnish five sons for war service are Mr. and Mrs. Frank Miller, Sr. of Ririe, and Mr. and Mrs. O. B. Drake of Roberts. In the Miller Family there are four sailors and one soldier; the same is true of the Drake family. Of the fifteen men in the three five-star families eleven are sailors and four soldiers."

In a smallish county in southeastern Idaho three families sent five sons each to war. This made me wonder just how many families sent that many sons and daughters to fight?

I suppose I could do some research on the subject--the answers are most likely out there. But, for me, I'm satisfied in the fact that, even though my father and his brothers's situation wasn't as unusual as I thought, I still am proud of what they did, what the other two Jefferson County families did, and what everyone did to help stop that terrible war. Back then, I'm sure the sacrifice affected everyone. Amazing families, truly.

Watched A Lot Of Movies About Churchill Lately...Fascinating!

I got on a mini-history kick this weekend and I ended up watching three films directly related to Winston Churchill. Of course, I watched them in the wrong order, chronologically. There's so much of World War II I don't know about, even though I find it fascinating.

My father fought in WWII. He was stationed in England near the end of the war. Thankfully, he and four of his brothers all returned safely. Not all could say that. I know there's millions of words written about that terrible war--it's all there for me to read about and research. But watching films about it is pretty cool, too.

The first film I watched was Churchill: The Untold Story of D-Day. I thought I was choosing another film when I selected it online. Nope--this one was different, but I enjoyed it very much. As the title alludes, the film shows us Churchill near the end of the war and his reservations of the largest military assault ever amassed on earth. Like many historical depictions, I wonder just how much of the story was true, and what--if anything--was embellished.

The next film I watched was Darkest Hour. This was the film I thought I was choosing the first time. This one earned its star, Gary Oldman, an Oscar. In Darkest Hour, we learn about how Churchill approached his appointment as Prime Minister and his first major emergency--evacuating most of the British Army from Dunkirk, at the same time, considering a possible peace treaty with Germany. I didn't know anything about that.

The last film, Dunkirk, told the story of the soldiers trapped in France. It mentioned Churchill briefly. It was interesting how this trio of films spotlighted an individual as well as his leadership and the consequences of the choices he made. Like I said, there must be thousands of books written about Churchill, the individual battles, and the war in general. I found each film informative, interesting, and educational. It reminds me of just how much there is to learn about these important events and the people who changed the world.

A Navy Man's Car...

I was at my in-laws yesterday and they had visitors, two men the same generation as my mother and father-in-law. They dropped by to see how they were doing and to give some assistance. I knew one of the gentlemen--he's my friend's father. I've known him for decades. The other man, I didn't know.

We left before they did and as I left, I noticed the vehicle the man I didn't know drove. After seeing the decals, I had to snap a couple of pictures.

He was a veteran, and by the looks of it, a navy man.

I don't know many navy service men or women. I suppose it goes with the territory. We have an air force base about ten miles to the north of us. And there's an army base about forty-five miles to the south of us.

But no navy bases here, even though we have the nation's biggest salt-water lake just west of us.

I have a newspaper clipping of my father and four of his siblings who served together in WWII. My dad was army air corp, but a few of his brothers were in the navy. I thought it odd boys from Idaho would want to go into the navy. I don't know--maybe they didn't have a choice. Maybe being in another land-locked state, they wanted to see a lot of water.

The man visiting my in-laws was a navy man. His van had stickers with familiar sayings, probably the most famous being:

Home of the Free Because of the Brave

I can't argue with that. The decals made me stop and think for just a moment. I'm sure the man has stories, some I'd love to hear and some I most likely never want to hear. Yes, I'm glad there are men and women who serve and serve willingly to protect me and my family. It's a shame that they're needed, but I'm glad they're there.

I'm also glad that kindly gentlemen visited a couple in need, too.