I remember hearing my father and some of his aquaintenances occasionally discussing their experiences during that time of great upheaval. Most of the time they had a smile on their faces and spent a lot of time laughing as they reminisced. I always had a feeling, even as a kid, that the laughter and smiles were somehow forced. You know kind of like whistling as you walk past a graveyard after dark They never talked in public about some of the absolute horrors they experienced. They never talked about the months and sometimes years of nightmares and insomnia that followed their return home. They kept that to themselves, because that's the way they were. It was their cross to bear and they were willing to do it. Some tried to drown the nightmares in alcohol and drugs, some turned to religion, and some just suffered through. But no matter what they never complained. They picked up the pieces and went on.
When I see so many people today who feel the world owes them a living; who think the government should take care of them from "womb to tomb"; who feel it's OK to have the government redistribute wealth; who aren't willing to work and sacrifice to get ahead bitching and moaning about how rough they have it I can't help but think "what losers!" It's enough to make a person puke! These people are like parasites... always taking, never giving.
The World War II generation is almost gone from us now. The hands of time stand still for no one. It is up to those of us who benefitted from their heroism and patriotism to carry on their memory and legacy.
God bless our service people, past and present!
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