What follows is posted under the "Trivia" section of this blog not because the contents are trivial in any way, shape, or form. No, to the contrary, the sacrifices are very real, the causes noble, the outcome in chorus with the ultimate conclusions never foregone. Yet an internal debate rages with one side of me arguing that the deeds described below should be posted under the "God Moments" section while my other self insists that our society all too often places an oversized portion of faith for it's wellbeing not at the feet of God Almighty but rather in the size of the Defense Department budget.
It's not hard to understand this misplaced faith. On various adventures along the shorelines of the Salish sea, it has not been uncommon to see a Trident submarine being escorted from its home base in Bangor, Washington out to the Pacific for patrol. The sight is always humbling when stopping to consider that this one, singular machine is capable of incinerating half the planet.
Yes, it's easy to fall into the trap of believing, however fleeting, that our technology, our economy, our political system, and yes, our military are the objects to which we are obliged to bestow glory. These four horsemen of prosperity and relative peace are indeed mind-boggling. But it is so important to keep things in perspective. For it is God in His sovereignty who has chosen to bless this country with the advantages that these four gifts afford, among untold others. It is He whom we should worship. Not the instruments of His favor.
The "trivia" section wins the day for lack of a better alternative.
None of that should in any way diminish the sacrifices of the servicemen and women who have gone before us. There have been many throughout that have touched my life on a personal level while the vast majority I know only by the residue of their service. The legions have been countless. Each individual experience profound. But four in particular stand out. The four all served during WWII. Their's has been described as The Greatest Generation and simply stated, the world is a poorer place as each has passed.
These four stories are embarrassingly incomplete, not for lack of interest on my part, but for lack of revelation on their's. Being tight-lipped was a common quality among all four. Imaginably, consequent to a sense of duty. Conceivably, the aftereffect of private wounds. Arguably, the humble awareness that they were the lucky ones. The little that they chose to reveal was lighthearted - delivered with a glint in the eye and a knowing look that said "Everything will be OK. Even the most trying of times come to an end."
THE FOUR
Howard Anderson, my Mother's youngest brother, the 9th of nine siblings
Uncle Howard served on a naval vessel somewhere in the Pacific. My memory is cloudy but I believe that he told me once that his ship was present in Tokyo Bay during the Japanese surrender aboard the U.S.S. Missouri on September 2, 1945. There were some 300 allied ships in the bay that day.
He told of his one and only experience in combat.....One day Howard got into some sort of heated political debate with one of his shipmates. Overhearing the argument, some of the crew began chanting: Gloves! Gloves! Gloves! And so it came to pass that at high noon the following day, Howard and his shipmate, were led out to a makeshift ring on the quarterdeck, laced up with 16 ounce boxing gloves, and introduced to the raucous seamen surrounding the "ring". Someone rang the ships bell and both men came out throwing haymakers. However, the contest soon devolved into something of closer resemblance to a pillow fight than boxing match. Nary a blow landed.....but the tropical sun together with the weight of the gloves took a toll. Soon, both fighters retreated to their respective corners, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.
Gus Anderson, my Mother's younger brother, the 8th of nine siblings
Uncle Gus never said a word about the war.
Gus was by nature out-going and easy to laugh. Nonetheless, many years after the war, during some of our family gatherings and at the height of the festivities, Gus seemed quiet, distant and could be found sitting by himself, within himself. Once, I mentioned Gus' behavior to Uncle Howard and wondered what was troubling him. Howard confided to me that Gus had served in the Army in the European Theatre. His job had been to follow behind the battles and clean the fields of the dead and the body parts.
It was easy to forgive Uncle Gus for his infrequent sullen spells after that.
Paul Easton, my Father's youngest brother, the 5th of five siblings
Uncle Paul served in the Air Force somewhere near the Philippines. Paul always delighted in talking about his unit's pet monkey. Apparently, the monkey had come out of the jungle, no doubt enticed by a free meal or two, and decided to stay. It would seem that the monkey and Uncle Paul were soon to be inseparable pals.
Paul's contribution to the war effort was mechanical in nature. If it was a machine, and if it was broken, Paul could fix it. He provided ongoing maintenance to various warplanes. There was the time when a pilot requested Paul to provide additional firepower for his aircraft. So, Uncle Paul mounted two machine guns on either wing of the plane with a common trigger in the cockpit. Paul was concerned that the additional weight, the reduction of aerodynamics, and the kickback from the firing of the machine guns would stall the plane and doom the mission, if not the pilot. In the end, Paul seemed quite pleased to report that the pilot returned in one piece with the mission accomplished.
Chester Easton, my Father, the 3rd of five siblings
Dad was in the Army. The highlight of the war and perhaps his life occurred while being transferred from his training center in Texas to his next station in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. For the relocation, the powers-that-be assigned Chester the gunner's seat in the nose of a B-17 Flying Fortress. Uncountable the times that Chester reminisced about that flight throughout his lifespan.
Chester ended up being stationed in Alaska somewhere above the arctic circle. He described the base as a weather station but my suspicion is that the place had more to do with "listening" than weather.
My Mother was always the one who brought-up and story-told this episode:
One day, Chet's higher-up sent him out into the cold to do some welding on a barracks building. Now, let me interject that it is a mystery as to why Chester was chosen, as Chester and Paul were polar opposites when it came to mechanical prowess. I digress....back to Mom. Chet dutifully proceeded with his assignment, only to realize that a spark from his welder had fallen down between a couple of studs within the barracks wall. Visualizing an inferno and a court martial in quick succession, Chet thought fast and did the only thing he could think of - he drooled and spat at the spark down in the chasm until it was extinguished.
The story closed as Chester deadpanned, "And that ladies and gentlemen is how the great war was won."
No Silver Stars. No Purple Hearts. Just four ordinary guys amongst the legions. Each a war hero true.
