model70hunter
Member
Desert Storm. My son was in the 2nd Marines, driving a Humvee in a tow missile company. They bolted through the breach at the start, the Humvee in front of him hit a mine, the fellow marine lost a leg, if you watched FOX you heard about it. They took him to a Mash unit and continued on, hurry up, stop while the wart hogs blast away, hurry up the road, stop and wait.
An Iraqi ran out of a ditch at 25 yards firing his AK at them, my son said he never thought about it, Marine Rifleman training kicked in, he had his on burst, it severed most of the Iraqi's arm at the shoulder joint, he kept running towards them minus his AK.
The Hospital Corpsman stopped the bleeding and they saved him. I did not say anything to my son, but I would not have let the Iraqi close the gap. Explosive vest perhaps, you don't know. My son said at that point he was glad he did not have to kill someone. That changed in a few hours. It was his first time. He is a good hearted person, moral and would be the last person to go hurt someone. Morals he learned from me that were handed down by my father that was handed down by my Grandfather.
As a youngster I used an Arabic knife for may things, Dad was part of the North African invasion and Rommel chasing in WW2. I cut rope, rendered tree limbs into toothpicks, left the knife laying out side and while learning to throw a knife with the intent to make it hit point first and stick in something I broke off part of the bone handle. I thought Dad would be upset he never said anything. After I broke it I put it in with my assorted junk, marbles, other knifes and never used it again. I kept the knife and still have it. When older I asked Dad why he did not get upset about me breaking his War souvenir knife.
He said he did not care for it much. I said your other things bring life to your eyes when you talk about them. Why is this different?
After a brief encounter with the French Foreign Legion who were fighting with the Germans for a while our troops moved inland. Dad's company was an MP company that was given all the forward scout duties. Anti sniper and in general the guys that lived out front. Dad was an Iowa farm boy with great moral character. He said he did not want to shoot anyone.
At a small village he and a couple of guys were told to go through it looking for Germans. Dad and his friend took one narrow street and in the dark they kept close to the walls, one moving and one ready to fire. Dad said he was just started to move up glanced at his friend and a local was getting ready to stick the knife in his buddies back. Training kicked in, Thompson 45 auto, hit the local low left and quit as it stopped hitting him high right. Dad said that was his first. He meant killing. He picked up the knife, his buddy was happy, they were on a little high but afterwards Dad said every time he saw the knife it reminded him of the incident and made him feel bad because he had to shoot someone. He said the first one he shot through a scope will always stay with him as he could see his face. These are the evils of war that claw at ones morals.
Same continent, 2 generations apart 2 boys went to war and 2 men returned, sorrowful but still moral and believers in what is right.
Dad had a military funeral, I gave the flag to my son. It has never been unfolded, it is in a triangular case and hangs next to Dad's WW 2 picture. Which is right next to my son's Marine picture. Dad and my son are a lot alike. Love to fish and hunt, like to shoot, and both are of the highest moral character. War did not change that.
This is what Memorial Day meant to me.
An Iraqi ran out of a ditch at 25 yards firing his AK at them, my son said he never thought about it, Marine Rifleman training kicked in, he had his on burst, it severed most of the Iraqi's arm at the shoulder joint, he kept running towards them minus his AK.
The Hospital Corpsman stopped the bleeding and they saved him. I did not say anything to my son, but I would not have let the Iraqi close the gap. Explosive vest perhaps, you don't know. My son said at that point he was glad he did not have to kill someone. That changed in a few hours. It was his first time. He is a good hearted person, moral and would be the last person to go hurt someone. Morals he learned from me that were handed down by my father that was handed down by my Grandfather.
As a youngster I used an Arabic knife for may things, Dad was part of the North African invasion and Rommel chasing in WW2. I cut rope, rendered tree limbs into toothpicks, left the knife laying out side and while learning to throw a knife with the intent to make it hit point first and stick in something I broke off part of the bone handle. I thought Dad would be upset he never said anything. After I broke it I put it in with my assorted junk, marbles, other knifes and never used it again. I kept the knife and still have it. When older I asked Dad why he did not get upset about me breaking his War souvenir knife.
He said he did not care for it much. I said your other things bring life to your eyes when you talk about them. Why is this different?
After a brief encounter with the French Foreign Legion who were fighting with the Germans for a while our troops moved inland. Dad's company was an MP company that was given all the forward scout duties. Anti sniper and in general the guys that lived out front. Dad was an Iowa farm boy with great moral character. He said he did not want to shoot anyone.
At a small village he and a couple of guys were told to go through it looking for Germans. Dad and his friend took one narrow street and in the dark they kept close to the walls, one moving and one ready to fire. Dad said he was just started to move up glanced at his friend and a local was getting ready to stick the knife in his buddies back. Training kicked in, Thompson 45 auto, hit the local low left and quit as it stopped hitting him high right. Dad said that was his first. He meant killing. He picked up the knife, his buddy was happy, they were on a little high but afterwards Dad said every time he saw the knife it reminded him of the incident and made him feel bad because he had to shoot someone. He said the first one he shot through a scope will always stay with him as he could see his face. These are the evils of war that claw at ones morals.
Same continent, 2 generations apart 2 boys went to war and 2 men returned, sorrowful but still moral and believers in what is right.
Dad had a military funeral, I gave the flag to my son. It has never been unfolded, it is in a triangular case and hangs next to Dad's WW 2 picture. Which is right next to my son's Marine picture. Dad and my son are a lot alike. Love to fish and hunt, like to shoot, and both are of the highest moral character. War did not change that.
This is what Memorial Day meant to me.
