Comments on: Mortality of Modern Day Heroes

By: Kim Siever

Kim Siever — Tue, 14 Feb 2006 21:34:02 +0000

Recent Comments now lists 40 comments. I won’t go longer than that though; that takes up a lot of room.

By: rick

rick — Tue, 14 Feb 2006 20:41:14 +0000

Can we put another 20 recent posts at the bottom of the right hand sidebar, Kim?

It saves having to log in and scroll down all the comments (in reverse order). Especially when you can’t come here for a couple days.

By: Kim Siever

Kim Siever — Tue, 14 Feb 2006 20:27:25 +0000

I specifically had you in mind when I implemented the recent Comments feature. We do love you after all.

By: ltbugaf

ltbugaf — Tue, 14 Feb 2006 20:25:21 +0000

I’ve just noticed an indication of my personal vanity. I keep nervously watching the line of recent comments and seeing my post on this thread slide down the line. I realized I’m afraid it will disappear before someone sees that I’ve left a comment here and comes to read it.

In fact, that’s probably the real reason I’m posting now–maybe my confession is just a pretext.

By: ltbugaf

ltbugaf — Tue, 14 Feb 2006 18:57:46 +0000

Last month I attended the funeral of my father, who was a WWII veteran. That statement is true only in the technical sense: Japan surrendered while he was in US Navy training in California. He subsequently went to Guam, served as a yeoman (mostly by typing) for a Marine Colonel lawyer handling war damages claims, and came home without firing a shot or being fired at.

I was very insistent that he receive military honors at his grave. I wore my own uniform to honor his service. He was a war hero.

You may wonder how I could think that, since he didn’t show up until after the war had been called off, and served only about one year in uniform. Here’s why:

First, when he joined the Navy, almost no one knew the war was about to end. The best information they had was that the war was going to continue through a long and gruesome land invasion of Japan, causing possibly millions in casualties. Dad didn’t know if he would be one of those casualties. But honestly, I don’t think his thinking even went that far. He just understood that he had a duty to do the right thing, and he did it.

More importantly: A man doesn’t become a hero the day he gives his life. He doesn’t become a hero the day he risks his life. He becomes a hero the day he offers his life. Like so many of his generation, (a generation that too many like to denigrate), he offered his life, laying it on the altar of freedom and waiting to see if it would be taken. He was a hero. They were all heroes.