The past, the truth and the all important proof.

The thread about Douglas Bader got me to thinking.

My small contributions to history probably won’t matter too much in the future. But, I wonder if at some point fifty or sixty years from now, somebody will look at my military career and say “ya know, that old guy was full of crap!”

I’ve been in the USAF for nearly 13 years flying as a loadmaster for most of that time. I’ve been to all seven continents, over 130 countries and territories, flown over both poles and been around the world more times than I can count. So far I’ve been involved in just about every major operation and invasion from just after Desert Storm, up until now. My brother and I are eleventh generation military on our mother’s side and roughly 12th or 13th on our dad’s side. I’ve done, seen and heard things that I know people won’t ever believe. Some of it I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t seen it, been involved or known the people involved.

That is exactly why I have always written my military experiences down and taken more pictures than any human could possibly need. What me and my generation have done doesn’t begin to compare to what the previous generations did. But, hopefully someday, my daughter will be interested enough in my past to drag out my notebooks and photo albums and see what her dear old dad did as a young man. Even though I’ve been taking notes for several years, I finally am getting my dad to write about his experience’s in Vietnam with the USMC.

Although he went on to his great reward many years ago, I carried my Great Grandfather’s service cap and discharge papers with me when I visited the Argone Forest in France two years ago, along with all the letters that he wrote his girlfriend (later to be my Great-Grandmother) from the war, detailing many of the places he went and the things he did.

I carried my Grandfathers dog tags with me to Guam, Okinawa and Ie Shima, the same places he told me about when I was a kid. I carried my dad’s Marine Corp emblem with me when I flew a POW/MIA recovery team to Vietnam a couple of years ago and was able to go see a few of the places that he fought in.

Hanging on my dog tag chain right now is a P-38 can opener that my dad carried all through his time in Vietnam. He got it from my Grandfather who carried it all through the Pacific theater in WWII.

I was lucky to know my grandparents and hear their tales of combat, as well as just the general family history. I’m glad they left a record of the places they were and the things they did. If all goes according to plan, many generations of my grandkids will be able to say the same thing about me.