This a picture of my father and his grandmother. It was taken in the spring of nineteen forty three.
He had just completed boot camp, and somehow made his way from Sandiego California to Arthur Indiana for a brief visit.
They had no way of knowing, that they would not see each other again for over three years.
He was about to be sent to Guadacanal, Guam, Saipan, Peileiu, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, and eventually Japan.
He would be chosen for the First Marine Raider Battalion. They were Special Forces trained to do things, I will write about another time. I bring this up, because this week is his birthday. He was born at midnight February nineteenth. Because of this he always said his birthday was February nineteenth and twentieth. Even his obits couldn’t get it straight, so he pulled it off all his life and even afterwards.
My daughter’s birthday is tomorrow the seventeenth. She almost held out long enough. They never got to meet. She was conceived within days of his death. In our family we always say they passed each other on the way up and down.
That would be just like my dad. ” Once a Marine always a Marine”. He would have made sure someone took his place on the Battlefield of life to fill that void.
Where did he learn to be that way?
A lot of the credit goes to that little woman standing next to him. She raised him for much of his early childhood.
She was born in 1868, but I knew her. I was thirteen when she died. I miss her.
Happy Birthday Dad! I miss you.
Happy Birthday Daughter. I miss you too.