Day 316: Today is Veterans Day, observed, but yesterday was the real Veterans Day. Why does it matter? We celebrate our veterans on the 11th day of the 11th month at the 11th hour, because that is when the armistice for peace was signed, ending the first World War, in 1918. That was 5 years before my father was born. But there was a Second World War, and he entered service in that war at 20 years of age. How grateful I am he returned safely home to his parents and his fiancé.
My father-in-law was married with a new baby on the way, when his number came up in the draft. Because farming was necessary, it was one of the reasons the draft could be deferred, so his little brother, Victor Longhurst, went into the draft office and signed up to go, telling them his brother would be the one to stay home and run the farm.
Vic was killed in action on the island of Guam. My husband’s family considers Uncle Vic a hero, because he sacrificed his life to save his brother’s life, and ultimately the lives of his brother’s entire posterity. None of us ever knew him, but we all know what he did for us. A few years ago, our family went Christmas caroling at a Veterans Hospital, and while visiting with the residents, we met an elderly gentleman who had served with Uncle Vic in Guam. He told us what a great young man Vic was, and how he had changed his life. It was a blessing and a privilege to meet this man and hear that our lives weren’t the only lives Uncle Vic had saved.
Our nation’s veterans, who have risked their lives to protect our way of life, deserve our gratitude and respect. How grateful I am for them.
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