This is my Dad’s “metal from the war”
That’s all he ever said about it. “That’s my metal from the war. You want it?” I assume it’s an active service during a war metal for being a Marine. My Dad was in the Pacific theater during World War II and I know nothing about what he did. It must be the way he wanted it. I remember stories of boxing on ships and that he was always the only one who knew how to type, but besides that I know nothing.
I once asked my Dad if I should be a Marine. He said, “No”. Later, when I pushed him he said you have to be able to do what you are told. You have to listen. I said I can do what I am told. He said, “You have to love being told what to do. And that ain’t you!” No sir, it wasn’t.
My three nephews are Marines. We are all so proud.
The sixty year old scrap of notebook paper with “My Rifle” hand written on it makes me wonder. I’m sure he had to recite it in the Corp, but why keep it? Was it the first thing he ever had to truly memorize? Doubt it, a creed sworn to by God, is not something my Dad would take lightly.
“Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life, so be it, until there is no enemy, but peace!”
On the front of my Dad’s metal it simply reads World War II. On the back it reads United States of America
His story in the Pacific may never be told, but I don’t think this would bother him.
No comments:
Post a Comment