Many of our national holidays are under ‘re-examination’.
But not Veteran’s Day.
Veteran’s Day is a re-purposing of the original Armistice Day; celebrated on November 11th to commemorate the WW One ending armistice, signed at 11:11 on 11/11.
Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s assassination started WW1, but led to the social media cancellation of the rock band Franz Ferdinand. War is senseless…
Where was I?
Along with Memorial Day, today provides rousing confirmation we live in the greatest country in the history of the world.
A country worth fighting and dying for.
Tuesday’s midterms – conducted freely and fairly – another reminder of how lucky we are to have the freedom to vote. Even lucky to have a Senate runoff… in return, 6 fewer weeks of Purgatory!
Ours is also a country worth paying for, which makes April 15th a necessary evil (shakes fist angrily!).
And while many Americans fixate on our issues and sometimes indefensible past, I like our odds of fixing them better than anywhere else.
So, “Thank you for your service” might feel perfunctory, but shouldn’t.
My Father’s military service meant the world to him.
He served in the Coast Guard in WW2 – the irony of a Nebraskan serving in the CG was lost on me for years – but didn’t talk about war details, and we never thought to ask.
The things we never asked…
The only ‘war’ story he told was about riding out a typhoon during his Pacific assignment – a ‘tornado on steroids’. But he did talk about the people he served with.
His way of staying connected with his service was his involvement in the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW).
Membership requires military service, and the stated mission for both is “advocating patriotism” – for us kids, that meant American flag underwear for Christmas -but there were strong social and remembrance aspects to both.
My childhood memories include my Dad spending both holidays at graveside commemorations and remembrances.
Later honored by the 21 gun salute at his own graveside.
Today’s vets stay connected via Facebook pages devoted to those who served, but are then the recipients of targeted ads – the type of tyranny they fought to end – and invited to join the ‘virtual world’.
He was active in both organizations, serving as treasurer/adjutant, a paid position – my Father fought not just to save the world, but to never to be a volunteer again.
The VFW also had a ‘club’, which may have been their way of joining ‘virtual reality’.
Given there’s a draft, I wonder about people’s ‘willingness’ to serve, but someone had to “spit in Der Fuhrer’s Face” so my Father went – along with most of his generation.
Typifying the selflessness of the ‘Greatest Generation’.
And fortunate to return home, his selflessness was then devoted to his family.
He talked about reuniting with his Coast Guard mates, and his Bucket List had one remaining item: A trip to Pearl Harbor.
Unfortunately, life and family intervened.
I’m sure he was disappointed, but not so we noticed.
And like so many of the things he sacrificed – college, samba lessons, the chance to play minor league rugby -I was then able to experience them, including his visit to Pearl Harbor.
But perhaps as much as anything, today is a reminder that each generation “stands on the shoulders” of the prior.
And that service to others is the ultimate human calling.
So, in addition to thanking a veteran, today should be about how lucky we are to have our freedoms, and to thank those who came before us and helped to create our world.
And then (re)commit to lending our shoulders to those who follow us…
For 132 more posts like this –each with a 21 gun salute – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.
Or, at the site, leave a comment on this post, and then check the box that says “Please notify me of future posts” and you will be sent the newest Sunday update automatically.
Easier yet, when you read a post, after 15 seconds you’ll be given the chance to become a subscriber: Life gets better and better!
Or just forward this to everyone you know. Forward it to those you aren’t fond of twice.
TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:
If I had a rocker launcher Bruce Cockburn
“here comes the helicopter — second time today
everybody scatters and hopes it goes away
how many kids they’ve murdered only god can say
if i had a rocket launcher…i’d make somebody pay.
i don’t believe in guarded borders and i don’t believe in hate
i don’t believe in generals or their stinking torture states
and when i talk with the survivors of things too sickening to relate
if i had a rocket launcher…i would retaliate
on the rio lacantun one hundred thousand wait
to fall down from starvation — or some less humane faith.
cry for guatemala, with a corpse in every gate
if i had a rocket launcher…i would not hesitate
i want to raise every voice — at least i’ve got to try.
every time i think about it water rises to my eyes.
situation desperate echoes of the victims cry
if i had a rocket launcher…some son of a bitch would die”
Over There George M. Cohan Covered by Franz Ferdinand
Johnnie, get your gun
Get your gun, get your gun
Take it on the run
On the run, on the run
Hear them calling, you and me
Every son of liberty
Hurry right away
No delay, go today
Make your daddy glad
To have had such a lad
Tell your sweetheart not to pine
To be proud her boy’s in line
Over there, over there
Send the word, send the word over there
That the Yanks are coming
The Yanks are coming
The drums rum tumming everywhere
So prepare, say a prayer
Send the word, send the word to beware
We’ll be over, we’re coming over
And we won’t come back till it’s over, over there
Johnnie, get your gun
Get your gun, get your gun
Johnnie show the Hun
Who’s a son of a gun
Hoist the flag and let her fly
Yankee Doodle do or die
Pack your little kit
Show your grit, do your bit
Yankee to the ranks
From the towns and the tanks
Make your mother proud of you
And the old red, white and blue
Over there, over there
Send the word, send the word over there
That the Yanks are coming
The Yanks are coming
The drums rum tumming everywhere
So prepare, say a prayer
Send the word, send the word to beware
We’ll be over, we’re coming over
And we won’t come back till it’s over, over there.
Power & the Passion Midnight Oil
People, wasting away in paradise
Going backward, once in a while
Moving ahead, falling behind
What do you believe, what do you believe?
What do you believe is true
Nothing they say makes a difference this way
Nothing they say will do
They take all the trouble that you can afford
At least you won’t have time to be bored
At least you won’t have time to be bored
Oh the power and the passion
Oh the temper of the time
Oh the power and the passion
Sometimes you’ve got to take the hardest line
Sunburnt faces around, with skin so brown
Smiling zinc cream and crowds
Sundays the beach never a cloud
Breathing eucalypti, pushing panel vans
Stuff and munch junk food laughing at the truth
‘Cause gough was tough ’til he hit the rough
Uncle Sam and John were quite enough
Too much of sunshine too much of sky
It’s enough to make you want to cry
Just enough to make you want to cry
Oh the power and the passion
Oh the temper of the time
Oh the power and the passion
Sometimes you’ve got to take the hardest line
Buildings, clothing the sky, in paradise
Sydney, nights are warm
Daytime telly, blue rinse dawn
Dad’s so bad he lives in the pub
It’s a underarms and football clubs
Flat chat, pine gap, in every home a big mac
And no one goes outback, that’s that
You take what you get and get what you please
It’s better to die on your feet than to live on your knees
It’s better to die on your feet than to live on your knees
Oh the power and the passion
Oh the temper of the time
Oh the power and the passion
Sometimes you’ve got to take the hardest line
And the band played Waltzing Matilda The Pogues
When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It’s time to stop rambling ’cause there’s work to be
done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the
cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli
How well I remember that terrible day
When the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He showered us with bullets, he rained us with
shells
And in five minutes flat he’d blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
And we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again
Now those who were living did their best to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for seven long weeks I kept myself alive
While the corpses around me piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, Christ I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
And no more I’ll go waltzing Matilda
To the green bushes so far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the cripples, the wounded and maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind and insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
And they turned all their faces away
And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving their dreams of past glory
I see the old men, all twisted and torn
The forgotten heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask me, “What are they
marching for?”
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who’ll go a-waltzing Matilda with me?
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam John Lee Hooker
Sittin’ down here thinkin’
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam
I’m sittin’ down here thinkin’
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam
I have all these troubles at home
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam
I read the news every day
I read about Vietnam
I read the news every day
I read about Vietnam
I got so much friends in Vietnam
I might not never see them no more
Sittin’ here thinkin’
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam
Sittin’ here thinkin’, thinkin’, thinkin’
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam
You men in the street have so much trouble of their own
Why they wanna fight in Vietnam?
Have mercy
Lord, have mercy
Don’t let me go to Vietnam
Lord, have mercy, Lord, have mercy
Don’t let me go to Vietnam
I have my wife and my family
I don’t wanna go to Vietnam
TAPS
Many believe Taps is a song, but officially it’s not. Taps is a bugle call which is a signal, not a song so there are no “official” Taps Lyrics as well. The signal was also known as the Drum Taps, The Taps, or in soldiers’ slang: Taps.
The official military Taps is played by a single bugle or trumpet at dusk, during flag ceremonies and at military funerals by the United States Armed Forces. The duration is usually around 59 seconds but can vary at times.
There is a popular myth about the origin and history of Taps. However, the true story is that in July 1862, after the Seven Days battles at Harrison’s Landing (near Richmond), Virginia, the wounded Commander of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, V Army Corps, Army of the Potomac, General Daniel Butterfield reworked, with his bugler Oliver Wilcox Norton, another bugle call, “Scott Tattoo,” to create Taps. He thought that the regular call for Lights Out was too formal.
Military Taps was adopted throughout the Army of the Potomac and finally confirmed by orders. It wasn’t soon after that othfuneralser Union units began using Taps. It became so popular that even a few Confederate units began using it as well. After the war, Taps became an official bugle call and was used at military funerals.
Words to Taps
(Note: there are no “official” words to Taps but the most popular Taps Lyrics are below)
Day is done, gone the sun,
From the hills, from the lake, from the skies.
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.
Go to sleep, peaceful sleep, may the soldier
or sailor, God keep. On the land or the deep, Safe in sleep.
Love, good night, must thou go,
when the day, and the night need thee so?
All is well. Speedeth all To their rest.
Fades the light;
And afar Goeth day,
And the stars Shineth bright,
Fare thee well;
Day has gone, night is on.
Thanks and praise, for our days,
‘Neath the sun, Neath the stars, ‘Neath the sky,
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.