| General Fiction posted May 7, 2016 |
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Daddy wouldn't tell us
Memories of Daddy
by jusylee72
Military Memorial Day Contest Winner
Dear Daddy,
If I could talk to you today, I would remind you of my twenty-first birthday. You sat at the dining room table. You lived on a golf course at Blue Lake Estates, about fifty miles from Austin, Texas. You had a new Cadillac in the driveway. We had our own golf cart, ready to go. We lived on the course, the second hole to be exact.
I was happy when I asked you, “What were you doing on your twenty first birthday?” You paused and said something I didn’t expect.
“Well,” you said slowly. “I was flying over France on D-Day.”
That was the moment I realized how different our lives were. It was the day I started to understand you.
I knew you were a B-52 pilot. I saw your medals. The biggest one was in 1961, The Fairchild Trophy. This was a B-52 competition. Every base in the United States and England competed with their top Crews.
There were trophies. Your crew won six of them. You were introduced on the Tonight Show with Jack Parr. You were on the today show in your dress blues.
What I remember, even though I was only six, is that you complained. “We should have won seven. We missed the first attempt of refueling in the air. I had it on target. It was the refueling plane that missed it.”
Mom calmed you down and told you how wonderful you were.
You started in World War Two. You flew B -17’s. I overheard a story of you coming back after a mission. Your crew was met on the ground with a huge bottle of Scotch Whiskey. You talked about the crew deciding to count how many holes were in your plane. You walked around counting them. When you got to two hundred in one wing, you laughingly said all of you quit and went to have a drink.
After the war you went home. You married the woman I call Mom.
But that wasn’t the entire story.
It turns out you were married when you went to war. You came back to a wife who was pregnant by someone else. You eventually divorced her.
I didn’t know that part of the story until years later when my not so nice grandmother was complaining to my sister. “If your Mother had never married that divorced man.” My grandmother was Catholic, to her that was a sin. Pam, my oldest sister, was visiting her. Pam was nicer than I would have been. She still talked to her.
Pam told my sister Patty and me about that visit. We both had the same reaction. If Mom had not married that “divorced man”, we wouldn’t exist.
Dad, you went to Law School in Creighton, Nebraska on the G.I. Bill. You were about to graduate when you got recalled for the Korean Conflict. You took the Bar Exam early. You passed it, but you never practiced law. You became a career man.
Later, you had to leave us again. You were stationed in Thailand. In my young teenage mind I had no idea that meant you were bombing Vietnam.
This time you came back different. The war finally caught up with you, or should I say, wars. You became distant. I never went to you for advice. I was afraid of you. You weren’t abusive, just unapproachable.
Those are the days I want back. I want to hear all of your stories. I want to know who you were.
I went to college to study music.
You had a beautiful voice, similar to Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. In another era, that could have been who you would become. One night, when I was very small, you came into my room. Mom had taught us to say our prayers before we went to sleep. You came in and sang in your deep baritone voice the Lord’s Prayer to me.
That night I fell asleep loved and comforted.
I once asked a veteran why you wouldn’t tell me your memories. He answered me, “Because he didn’t want you to know what he had done”.
Daddy, if I could see you today, I would let you know I understand. I love you. I know you killed people. I know it hurt you. I know you stood up for what is right. I know you were in your plane during the Cuban Missile Crisis. You protected more than just your family.
Good night Daddy.
I remember your voice.
Your youngest daughter.
Dear Daddy,
If I could talk to you today, I would remind you of my twenty-first birthday. You sat at the dining room table. You lived on a golf course at Blue Lake Estates, about fifty miles from Austin, Texas. You had a new Cadillac in the driveway. We had our own golf cart, ready to go. We lived on the course, the second hole to be exact.
I was happy when I asked you, “What were you doing on your twenty first birthday?” You paused and said something I didn’t expect.
“Well,” you said slowly. “I was flying over France on D-Day.”
That was the moment I realized how different our lives were. It was the day I started to understand you.
I knew you were a B-52 pilot. I saw your medals. The biggest one was in 1961, The Fairchild Trophy. This was a B-52 competition. Every base in the United States and England competed with their top Crews.
There were trophies. Your crew won six of them. You were introduced on the Tonight Show with Jack Parr. You were on the today show in your dress blues.
What I remember, even though I was only six, is that you complained. “We should have won seven. We missed the first attempt of refueling in the air. I had it on target. It was the refueling plane that missed it.”
Mom calmed you down and told you how wonderful you were.
You started in World War Two. You flew B -17’s. I overheard a story of you coming back after a mission. Your crew was met on the ground with a huge bottle of Scotch Whiskey. You talked about the crew deciding to count how many holes were in your plane. You walked around counting them. When you got to two hundred in one wing, you laughingly said all of you quit and went to have a drink.
After the war you went home. You married the woman I call Mom.
But that wasn’t the entire story.
It turns out you were married when you went to war. You came back to a wife who was pregnant by someone else. You eventually divorced her.
I didn’t know that part of the story until years later when my not so nice grandmother was complaining to my sister. “If your Mother had never married that divorced man.” My grandmother was Catholic, to her that was a sin. Pam, my oldest sister, was visiting her. Pam was nicer than I would have been. She still talked to her.
Pam told my sister Patty and me about that visit. We both had the same reaction. If Mom had not married that “divorced man”, we wouldn’t exist.
Dad, you went to Law School in Creighton, Nebraska on the G.I. Bill. You were about to graduate when you got recalled for the Korean Conflict. You took the Bar Exam early. You passed it, but you never practiced law. You became a career man.
Later, you had to leave us again. You were stationed in Thailand. In my young teenage mind I had no idea that meant you were bombing Vietnam.
This time you came back different. The war finally caught up with you, or should I say, wars. You became distant. I never went to you for advice. I was afraid of you. You weren’t abusive, just unapproachable.
Those are the days I want back. I want to hear all of your stories. I want to know who you were.
I went to college to study music.
You had a beautiful voice, similar to Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. In another era, that could have been who you would become. One night, when I was very small, you came into my room. Mom had taught us to say our prayers before we went to sleep. You came in and sang in your deep baritone voice the Lord’s Prayer to me.
That night I fell asleep loved and comforted.
I once asked a veteran why you wouldn’t tell me your memories. He answered me, “Because he didn’t want you to know what he had done”.
Daddy, if I could see you today, I would let you know I understand. I love you. I know you killed people. I know it hurt you. I know you stood up for what is right. I know you were in your plane during the Cuban Missile Crisis. You protected more than just your family.
Good night Daddy.
I remember your voice.
Your youngest daughter.
If I could talk to you today, I would remind you of my twenty-first birthday. You sat at the dining room table. You lived on a golf course at Blue Lake Estates, about fifty miles from Austin, Texas. You had a new Cadillac in the driveway. We had our own golf cart, ready to go. We lived on the course, the second hole to be exact.
I was happy when I asked you, “What were you doing on your twenty first birthday?” You paused and said something I didn’t expect.
“Well,” you said slowly. “I was flying over France on D-Day.”
That was the moment I realized how different our lives were. It was the day I started to understand you.
I knew you were a B-52 pilot. I saw your medals. The biggest one was in 1961, The Fairchild Trophy. This was a B-52 competition. Every base in the United States and England competed with their top Crews.
There were trophies. Your crew won six of them. You were introduced on the Tonight Show with Jack Parr. You were on the today show in your dress blues.
What I remember, even though I was only six, is that you complained. “We should have won seven. We missed the first attempt of refueling in the air. I had it on target. It was the refueling plane that missed it.”
Mom calmed you down and told you how wonderful you were.
You started in World War Two. You flew B -17’s. I overheard a story of you coming back after a mission. Your crew was met on the ground with a huge bottle of Scotch Whiskey. You talked about the crew deciding to count how many holes were in your plane. You walked around counting them. When you got to two hundred in one wing, you laughingly said all of you quit and went to have a drink.
After the war you went home. You married the woman I call Mom.
But that wasn’t the entire story.
It turns out you were married when you went to war. You came back to a wife who was pregnant by someone else. You eventually divorced her.
I didn’t know that part of the story until years later when my not so nice grandmother was complaining to my sister. “If your Mother had never married that divorced man.” My grandmother was Catholic, to her that was a sin. Pam, my oldest sister, was visiting her. Pam was nicer than I would have been. She still talked to her.
Pam told my sister Patty and me about that visit. We both had the same reaction. If Mom had not married that “divorced man”, we wouldn’t exist.
Dad, you went to Law School in Creighton, Nebraska on the G.I. Bill. You were about to graduate when you got recalled for the Korean Conflict. You took the Bar Exam early. You passed it, but you never practiced law. You became a career man.
Later, you had to leave us again. You were stationed in Thailand. In my young teenage mind I had no idea that meant you were bombing Vietnam.
This time you came back different. The war finally caught up with you, or should I say, wars. You became distant. I never went to you for advice. I was afraid of you. You weren’t abusive, just unapproachable.
Those are the days I want back. I want to hear all of your stories. I want to know who you were.
I went to college to study music.
You had a beautiful voice, similar to Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. In another era, that could have been who you would become. One night, when I was very small, you came into my room. Mom had taught us to say our prayers before we went to sleep. You came in and sang in your deep baritone voice the Lord’s Prayer to me.
That night I fell asleep loved and comforted.
I once asked a veteran why you wouldn’t tell me your memories. He answered me, “Because he didn’t want you to know what he had done”.
Daddy, if I could see you today, I would let you know I understand. I love you. I know you killed people. I know it hurt you. I know you stood up for what is right. I know you were in your plane during the Cuban Missile Crisis. You protected more than just your family.
Good night Daddy.
I remember your voice.
Your youngest daughter.
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Writing Prompt Pen a letter or poem to any military veteran thanking them for fighting for family and freedom. Please include a few lines as a Memorial. With your consent, only, they will be submitted to the Veterns Administration in Washington D.C. by me without your name or identifying information. It will remain confidential. The letter can also tribute your military duties as well. This is so important to myself as well as those that serve. Not to long please. |
Military Memorial Day Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
I have had a few questions from people not believing my Father was in all of these wars. Dad was born in 1922. He retired when he was 56, which would have been in 1978. He was in all of these.
This chart leaves out the Cuban Crisis in 1961 or 62
1939-1945 World War II Axis Powers: Germany, Italy, Japan vs. Major Allied Powers: United States, Great Britain, France, and Russia
1950-1953 Korean War United States (as part of the United Nations) and South Korea vs. North Korea and Communist China
1960-1975 Vietnam War United States and South Vietnam vs. North Vietnam
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. This chart leaves out the Cuban Crisis in 1961 or 62
1939-1945 World War II Axis Powers: Germany, Italy, Japan vs. Major Allied Powers: United States, Great Britain, France, and Russia
1950-1953 Korean War United States (as part of the United Nations) and South Korea vs. North Korea and Communist China
1960-1975 Vietnam War United States and South Vietnam vs. North Vietnam
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