My Dad and Pearl Harbor

My Daddy was 13 years old when Pearl Harbor was attacked. He remembered listening to President Roosevelt on the tiny radio they had in their depression era house. He was like so many of America’s boys back then. He couldn’t wait to get old enough to go fight. He was so young when he enlisted in early 1945, that my Grandfather had to sign papers for him to join.

That war, and the subsequent Korean War turned the 17 year old boy into a hardened 22 year old man who had seen more death when he came home than anyone should ever see. Those memories, along with a tattoo which said “Mother” stayed with him the rest of his life.

I carry many of those memories he had with me. He chose to unburden himself of many of them for some reason….perhaps because he couldn’t bear for someone else not to know about the horrors of what he had seen, along with the camaraderie he had experienced and shared with his fellow sailors.

Because of that, I have always been staunchly against war.

I always will be

Today is a day to remember those who gave their lives at Pearl Harbor, and to hope against all hope there will never be another war like that, and that we can end those wars which are now being fought.

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