A Memorial Day Thank you to those that protect us!!!

I would like to thank those that protect us, past and present.

Many of the "Greatest" generation are leaving us in great numbers. I wish to Thank them for their service and also for helping form this great country.

I am a member of the next generation. We will be judged by time/history also. I am not sure that our leadership has been as fruitful as our parents. We too often are swayed by personal wants. May the next generation govern more wisely.

To those currently in harms way. You have my heartfelt THANKS. You are in harms way, away from your loved ones. You are making a great sacrifice for the protection of us all. I know that not many of your fellow citizens really understand what that really means. I hope I do. I don't have the words to tell you how my heart swells with pride and THANKS for your service.

May the good Lord watch over you. May he welcome those with open arms that have paid the ultimate price. May he provide a joyous Heaven to those who have reached the end of their life's journey here on earth.

Have a good Memorial DAY. Take the time to shead a few tears for those no longer with us in body but still live on in our hearts.

JD Seller:

Your friend that passed several months ago is in good company. I received this and think it is very appropriate to be posted on Memorial Day.

You're a 19 year old kid.

critically wounded and dying in the jungle somewhere in the Central Highlands of Viet Nam ...

It's November 11, 1967.
LZ (landing zone) X-ray.

Your unit is outnumbered 8-1 and the enemy fire is so intense from 100 yards away, that your CO (commanding officer) has ordered the helicopters to stop coming in.

You're lying there, listening to the enemy machine guns and you know you're not getting out.

Your family is half way around the world, 12,000 miles away, and you'll never see them again.

As the world starts to fade in and out, you know this is the day.
Then - over the machine gun noise - you faintly hear that sound of a helicopter.
You look up to see a Huey coming in. But.. It doesn't seem real because no MedEvac markings are on it.

Captain Ed Freeman is coming in for you.

He's not MedEvac so it's not his job, but he heard the radio call and decided he's flying his Huey down into the machine gun fire anyway.

Even after the MedEvacs were ordered not to come. He's coming anyway.


And he drops it in and sits there in the machine gun fire, as they load 3 of you at a time on board.

Then he flies you up and out through the gunfire to the doctors and nurses and safety.

And, he kept coming back!! 13 more times!! Until all the wounded were out. No one knew until the mission was over that the Captain had been hit 4 times in the legs and left arm.
He took 29 of you and your buddies out that day. Some would not have made it without the Captain and his Huey.

Medal of Honor Recipient, Captain Ed Freeman, United States Air Force, died last Wednesday at the age of 70, in Boise , Idaho


May God Bless and Rest His Soul.

Medal of Honor Winner Captain Ed Freeman

Marc

Wow,thats really something,thanks for posting.

JD Seller,

Beautifully stated. I also am thankful for, and deeply respect, all those great soldiers who have served and are currently serving our nation. To each and every person who serves in our military; I thank you for my freedom! God bless the US soldier. To those who have lost loved ones in miltary service, I am so sorry for your loss. No words can properly express my condolences.

Medal of Honor recipient James P. Flemming was the Vice Wing commander while I was in Officer Training School, he to was a Helicopter pilot, I don't think the Air Force gave the helicopter pilots the credit they deserve. They had 'em, they were big and made out of brass. I guess dropping in on a hot LZ to pull troops out wasn't as glamorous as punching holes in the sky with a 105 or F-4 while shooting down MIGS, I think it was riskier.

Well said, JD, and I second your sentiments.

I lost my Mother on Armed Forces Day, May 16 2009. She was a WWII Veteran, having served three years in the South Pacific as a nurse in MacArthur's Army. She and my Father, a GM engineer on loan to the War Department as part of GM Overseas, met in Leyte Gulf in early 1945.

Though never a part of the military myself, I have enormous respect for all those who have served, and thank all for everything that they have done for us.

My flag will be flying and my parents grave sites will be fittingly decorated.

Dean

Interesting. My Dad island hopped with General Douglas McArthur. His last stop before returning to the states was Iwo Jima. I have some pictures somewhere when he was on the island. He only once talked about the war that I can recall.

My Mother took many, many photos of her time overseas and I have many of these. My two brothers have the others. I also have her complete WWII Army dress uniform, which is in pristine condition.

My Father was assigned to the USS Oglala, a mine layer sunk at Pearl Harbour when a Japanese torpedo ran beneath her and hit the light cruiser Helena alongside. The explosion and another nearby bomb blast opened seams in the old WWI ship and she settled to the bottom. Navy jargon of the time was that she sank from fright as she was not hit directly. She was subsequently refloated and rapaired.

My Father was a field engineer responsible for maintenance and training of the (then) very high tech Detroit two stroke diesel engines that the War Department was buying by the tens of thousands.

My Mother, spent nearly two years in New Guinea before being ordered to the Philippines. They met in the Officers Club in (I believe) March 1945. My Mother, a nurse, was a 1st Lt. My Father was a civilian (After Pearl he had tried to join the Navy but, being 39 at the time, was rejected.). I have no idea how he managed to get into the Officers Club.

Dean

A young lady I know from my days on a NASCAR website wrote a short story about her Dad. She lost her mother to cancer in 1991 when she was only 11yrs old and then her Dad died in a plance crash 10 yrs later just a few days before her graduation from Texas Tech University. With her permission, I'm going to post what she wrote several years ago in a tribute to her Dad.

My Dad served 5 years in the U.S. Army as a helicopter pilot in the 101st Air Mobile, 7th Cavalry during the Viet Nam war. I really don't know much about his time in the military other than what my Mother told me because Daddy wouldn't talk about it very much. And I was born long after he returned home and got out of the service.
He tried joining the Air Force, but without a college degree he couldn't be a pilot which was his dream. So he enlisted in the Army, knowing full well he would probably wind up in Viet Nam. With hard work and his passion for flying, he did get to be a FWO and a helicopter pilot....and sent to Viet Nam.
Eventually, he served 2 tours of duty there, the first as a pilot of a Huey "slick", a troop transport helicopter with no armament other than two 30 cal. machine guns mounted in the doors. His second tour he flew a Huey "dustoff" med-evac helicopter. He was shot down 3 times, and once the only survivor of the crash.
He had no brothers and only one sister. But he had a cousin that he grew up with. They were almost the same age, only a few months apart. On their first day of school in the first grade, they rode the school bus together. They smoked their first cigarette together out behind the barn when they were 12 years old. And my Grandpa busted both their butts when he found out about it!
When they were 16, my Dad and his cousin hauled hay and used the money to buy their first car together, a 1959 Ford station wagon. My Dad's first date with my mother was a double date with his cousin and his girlfriend in that old Ford. Later on, my Dad and his cousin graduated from the same high school class together.
When Daddy joined the Army, his cousin was there too. They went through boot camp together, AIT (advanced infantry training) together, OCS (Officer Candidate School) together and through helicopter pilot training at various camps and forts together.
Eventually, they wound up in Viet Nam together. And on one paticular mission to pick up some ground troops, my Dad's helicopter was shot down by Viet Cong small arms fire. His cousin, in another helicopter, turned around to try and pick up my Dad and his co-pilot. And my Dad saw his cousin die when a VC rocket exploded in his cousin's helicopter about 50 yards from where my Dad was.
A few weeks ago, I went to the cemetary to visit Mama on Mother's Day. Tomorrow, I'm going back to put another yellow rose on her grave and put a small flag on Daddy's grave. And about a 100 feet from them, l'm going to put a flag on cousin Billy Wayne's grave too.