The Old Guard and America's Veterans
By
Rory Ryan-hcpress@cinci.rr.com
Veterans Day – 11-11-11, if you please – is just a few days away. The repetitive digits (a trio of 11s) notwithstanding, the November 11, 2011 Veterans Day – like all days set aside to honor America's finest – is very special in its own right.
Many of us are fortunate to know – or have known – veterans from that distinctive World War II generation. Sadly, those World War II veterans still on the "active duty" roster are decreasing each and every day.
Consider: More than 16 million men and women served in the U.S. Armed Forces during World War II. More than 400,000 died in battle and noncombat deaths. More than 600,000 were wounded.
Of the approximately 2 million living American World War II veterans in 2011, almost 900 die each day. Their average age is 88 1/2.
Shortly after I started working full-time at age 9 (40-hour weeks all summer long), I spent many a day with several WWII veterans. Of course, back then, these men were no more than 25 years removed from their military service. Men like Gerald (also known as "George" or "Griff") Griffith and Arnold Robinson worked for my dad and looked after me when were surveying backwoods places like Tall Knob (also known as "HawYob") outside of Louden or Washburn Mountain or along the Ohio River.
Did I ever tell you about the time we were surveying outside of Ripley on property bordered by the Ohio River? We were placing concrete monuments for property line corner markers. I suppose these were intended to remain in place after a flood, instead of washing downstream like the old iron pins or rebar we typically used.
Anyway, this was summertime, probably July or August in the early 1970s. My dad had one of these concrete markers on his shoulder. The thing must have weighed 50 or 75 pounds, maybe more. He stepped into a nest of those black bees that always nest in the ground. He must have sprinted 100 yards or more with that concrete on his shoulder. Probably got stung 15 or 20 times. Never said a word. But he was obviously not pleased with his predicament.
I really wanted to ask him why he didn't think to drop the monument. But if two World War II veterans weren't going to say anything to a very angry, bee-stung Irishman, I figured I'd better keep quiet.
Earlier this year, Ohio Rep. Cliff Rosenberger paid a nice tribute to two Highland County World War II veterans and twin brothers, Marc and Marion Lewis.
Having known Marc since childhood, I was honored to be invited to his daughter's and son-in-law's (Ruthie and Gary Tucker) for the brothers' birthday party this summer. Marc's son, Bill, is a West Point graduate and retired Army colonel (and a former surveyor with the aforementioned buzz killer).
One of my good friends who remains among the surviving WWII veterans is former Rocky Fork Lake area resident Clyde Pidcock. Clyde and I hit it off the first time we met, about 14 years ago in Adams County.
He came into this world as tough as nails and he'll go out the same way, I have no doubt. Clyde can be a tough person to get to know, but if you are honest and straightforward with him, he'll treat you the same way. I guarantee it.
I remember when Clyde and Helen sold their home in Highland County. Clyde came to see me. He had selected The Dickey Group to handle the property. He wanted to know if I knew Jeff Dickey. I said I did.
"How long?" Clyde asked.
"Since around 1970," I replied. "We were baseball teammates for years."
"You and Jeff weren't born in 1970," Clyde argued.
"Well, it's the truth, Clyde," I said.
Clyde asked me if I trusted Jeff, and I said I most certainly did.
With Clyde, nothing is ever sugar-coated. If he's got a question, he'll ask it – and he can spot a liar from a football field away.
John Wend is known for a lot of things, many of them sports related. He's a sportswriter, broadcaster, Chillicothe Paints public relations specialist and, of course, the Voice of the Tigers.
I'm sure he's much too young to be a World War II veteran, but he does admire and respect America's military. We share that in common, as our love of sports (except soccer).
Earlier this week, John sent an email to me about the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery.
John's email included a question about the 21 steps the guards make in front of the tomb and the fact that a "Jeopardy" contestant or two didn't know the reason. (To be honest, neither did I, but I guessed correctly.)
The soldiers on duty pace silently and 21 steps in front of the tomb and pause facing the tomb for 21 seconds. (Think 21-gun salute.)
The Tomb of the Unknowns has been guarded continuously, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, since July 2, 1937. Through snowstorms, blizzards and even Hurricane Irene, the watch continues.
The Tomb Guards are a special platoon within the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment (The Old Guard). They work on a team rotation of 24 hours on, 24 hours off, for five days, taking the following four days off.
In 2010, for the first time, two brothers earned the honor of having completed training to serve as sentinels guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Army Spc. Mathew Brisiel of Texas, in February 2010, followed his brother, Staff Sgt. Jonathan Brisiel, when he became the 578th soldier awarded the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier Identification Badge since 1958.
Think about it: In 53 years, there have been an average of about 11 soldiers a year to earn this distinguished recognition. Almost brings to mind the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month (Armistice Day) to bring an end to World War I in 1918.
America's veterans are truly a special breed. Those many wonderful characters from my childhood who served in World War II are declining in number; but like the Old Guard, their lives and their sacrifices will forever remain etched in the memories of their families and friends.
Do yourself a favor on November 11. Extend a hand, and thank a veteran for his or her service. They deserve so much more, but the ones I know would settle for a handshake and a word or two of appreciation.
Thank you, and may God bless you, the Veterans of the United States Armed Forces.
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]
Many of us are fortunate to know – or have known – veterans from that distinctive World War II generation. Sadly, those World War II veterans still on the "active duty" roster are decreasing each and every day.
Consider: More than 16 million men and women served in the U.S. Armed Forces during World War II. More than 400,000 died in battle and noncombat deaths. More than 600,000 were wounded.
Of the approximately 2 million living American World War II veterans in 2011, almost 900 die each day. Their average age is 88 1/2.
Shortly after I started working full-time at age 9 (40-hour weeks all summer long), I spent many a day with several WWII veterans. Of course, back then, these men were no more than 25 years removed from their military service. Men like Gerald (also known as "George" or "Griff") Griffith and Arnold Robinson worked for my dad and looked after me when were surveying backwoods places like Tall Knob (also known as "HawYob") outside of Louden or Washburn Mountain or along the Ohio River.
Did I ever tell you about the time we were surveying outside of Ripley on property bordered by the Ohio River? We were placing concrete monuments for property line corner markers. I suppose these were intended to remain in place after a flood, instead of washing downstream like the old iron pins or rebar we typically used.
Anyway, this was summertime, probably July or August in the early 1970s. My dad had one of these concrete markers on his shoulder. The thing must have weighed 50 or 75 pounds, maybe more. He stepped into a nest of those black bees that always nest in the ground. He must have sprinted 100 yards or more with that concrete on his shoulder. Probably got stung 15 or 20 times. Never said a word. But he was obviously not pleased with his predicament.
I really wanted to ask him why he didn't think to drop the monument. But if two World War II veterans weren't going to say anything to a very angry, bee-stung Irishman, I figured I'd better keep quiet.
Earlier this year, Ohio Rep. Cliff Rosenberger paid a nice tribute to two Highland County World War II veterans and twin brothers, Marc and Marion Lewis.
Having known Marc since childhood, I was honored to be invited to his daughter's and son-in-law's (Ruthie and Gary Tucker) for the brothers' birthday party this summer. Marc's son, Bill, is a West Point graduate and retired Army colonel (and a former surveyor with the aforementioned buzz killer).
One of my good friends who remains among the surviving WWII veterans is former Rocky Fork Lake area resident Clyde Pidcock. Clyde and I hit it off the first time we met, about 14 years ago in Adams County.
He came into this world as tough as nails and he'll go out the same way, I have no doubt. Clyde can be a tough person to get to know, but if you are honest and straightforward with him, he'll treat you the same way. I guarantee it.
I remember when Clyde and Helen sold their home in Highland County. Clyde came to see me. He had selected The Dickey Group to handle the property. He wanted to know if I knew Jeff Dickey. I said I did.
"How long?" Clyde asked.
"Since around 1970," I replied. "We were baseball teammates for years."
"You and Jeff weren't born in 1970," Clyde argued.
"Well, it's the truth, Clyde," I said.
Clyde asked me if I trusted Jeff, and I said I most certainly did.
With Clyde, nothing is ever sugar-coated. If he's got a question, he'll ask it – and he can spot a liar from a football field away.
John Wend is known for a lot of things, many of them sports related. He's a sportswriter, broadcaster, Chillicothe Paints public relations specialist and, of course, the Voice of the Tigers.
I'm sure he's much too young to be a World War II veteran, but he does admire and respect America's military. We share that in common, as our love of sports (except soccer).
Earlier this week, John sent an email to me about the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery.
John's email included a question about the 21 steps the guards make in front of the tomb and the fact that a "Jeopardy" contestant or two didn't know the reason. (To be honest, neither did I, but I guessed correctly.)
The soldiers on duty pace silently and 21 steps in front of the tomb and pause facing the tomb for 21 seconds. (Think 21-gun salute.)
The Tomb of the Unknowns has been guarded continuously, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, since July 2, 1937. Through snowstorms, blizzards and even Hurricane Irene, the watch continues.
The Tomb Guards are a special platoon within the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment (The Old Guard). They work on a team rotation of 24 hours on, 24 hours off, for five days, taking the following four days off.
In 2010, for the first time, two brothers earned the honor of having completed training to serve as sentinels guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Army Spc. Mathew Brisiel of Texas, in February 2010, followed his brother, Staff Sgt. Jonathan Brisiel, when he became the 578th soldier awarded the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier Identification Badge since 1958.
Think about it: In 53 years, there have been an average of about 11 soldiers a year to earn this distinguished recognition. Almost brings to mind the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month (Armistice Day) to bring an end to World War I in 1918.
America's veterans are truly a special breed. Those many wonderful characters from my childhood who served in World War II are declining in number; but like the Old Guard, their lives and their sacrifices will forever remain etched in the memories of their families and friends.
Do yourself a favor on November 11. Extend a hand, and thank a veteran for his or her service. They deserve so much more, but the ones I know would settle for a handshake and a word or two of appreciation.
Thank you, and may God bless you, the Veterans of the United States Armed Forces.
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]