My father was 21 when he was inducted into the service in 1942. I've learned my love of country and appreciation for those who serve from him.
I've always known, of course, that my dad was really just a boy when he went into the service, but it was really brought home to me when my son's National Guard unit was preparing to go to Afghanistan. I looked at those soldiers and they seemed like such babies to me, and I couldn't fathom how anyone could think of sending those babies into a war zone (yes, the same thought as millions of mothers and fathers throughout the ages) and I wondered how on Earth they could stand it because they seemed so young. They did, of course, like the true soldiers they are, but it gave me an entirely new appreciation of my father and how young he was to have faced all he faced.
My father was present at the liberation of Bergen-Belsen and he allowed me to write an article about it for our local newspaper. He hates to speak of it, as you can imagine, but he did it for me because I told him it is so important to record stories like his. He said it still haunts him, not just the bodies, but also the living. He said he can still see them falling and kissing their feet or of them trying to get away from the camp and just dropping in their tracks because they didn't have the strength to go on.
Unfortunately, these things do still go on and there are those who would deny history (Ahmadinejad) so reminders such as these are so important.
Thank you, Sgt. Leo, for posting them. And thank you for your service, I am so grateful to you and all of our veterans....(But there is a special place in my heart our WWII boys...)