THE UNLIKELY HERO
Occasionally I tell you about one of my vets. A whole bunch of them are heroes.... I mean real heroes... we throw the term around WAY too much; but this one is the REAL deal. Just want to tell you about one of the "Greatest Generation" heroes. This one was in England in preparation for D Day. Then, though an army medical personnel, followed the 101st Airborne... All over Europe. Patched up a whole bunch of them and watched a bunch of them die. Snatched some from the jaws of death. Went into harms way numerous times. Nearly died. Got a Bronze Star and made it home safe.
Oh... I didn't mention the name did I? Sorry. No can do. Have to protect the identity; however I know you need some kind of identity. So, you may ask, "Who is he? Good question. The only thing is he is not a he at all. She is an 88 year old great grandmother who is coming to the end of her journey but still a hero in my book. (By the way. I did not get this story from her.) True heroes do not brag about their heroism. Some cannot call "her" hero, but would call her a heroin. But that sounds to much like a drug. I will stick with hero. But I digress.
In the years after the war, she continued her worship of God (A Methodist don't you know?) Loved her beloved, her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Got them through some good times, bad times, happy times and sad times. Coped with the ghosts of war fairly well. But with faith in the Lord and love for each other, they (her family and church family) lived their journey together.
She has faced every challenge you can imagine since the Great Depression. She has served her country faithfully. She served her LORD freely through her Methodist Church and found strength and fellowship in that Christian community. She loved and cared for her family, including multiple generations. And she overcame all obstacles because of her faith in her God. She prayed to HIM for guidance. She read HIS word for spiritual food and used it to seek God's will. The LORD always saw her family and her "through."
Some say we may be facing another great depression. At least that is what some say. Some wonder how in the world we will ever get through? Learn from our hero. It is not about what we have or do not have. It is not about the accumulation of wealth or the lack thereof. It is about putting one foot in front of the other with faith in the Lord, asking the Lord to guide each step of the way, and it is about family (including the church family) sticking together and supporting each other no matter what. Worked for the" Greatest Generation." Worked for our hero. It will work for you.
Be Blessed 2day... Especially 2day
Al
Yes, it's sad that so many of the Greatest Generation rarely, if ever, tell their own stories. One of them was my dad's older brother. He served during WWII and Korea. By the time I was born, my uncle's reputation was that of a drunkard, and although the stories abound of his many escapades that occured while he was drinking, no one spoke much of what he endured years before, while serving his country. Nor did he. In hindsight, I have sometimes thought, "Who could blame him ? Who would understand, unless they had also served ?" So he sought comfort in a bottle. God only knows, what images he was trying to erase from his mind with the liquor.
ReplyDeleteAs a child, I noticed a scar on his shoulder/upper chest area and asked him how he got it. He said 'That's where I got shot' and would say no more. My mother took me aside and said, "he doesn't like to talk about the war, DON'T ASK! "
Later, my mother told me my uncle's scar was from when he was shot by the German soldiers who captured him one cold, foggy night in a forest. He was driving a tank and his unit was trying to get into a strategic position, needing to slip undetected past the German army. So the only light they dared use was a tiny dim light on the rear of each tank -- so that the next tank driver in line behind them could follow the light. My uncle was driving the tank at the end of the line. In the foggy darkness, he lost sight of the tiny light on the tank ahead of him. He didn't realize the tank ahead of him had line of tanks had made a sharp turn to the right. He continued straight ahead, going over a ridge and down into the hands of the German troops below. If I recall correctly, one of the enemy soldiers stuck a gun into the top of the tank and just started shooting. My uncle was hit in the shoulder/upper chest area but he did survive. Eventually, he was released and returned to duty after the gunshot wound had healed. The soul wounds, however, had not healed. But he didn't complain--he was simply doing what he had volunteered to do. When his term of service in WWII was over, he re-enlisted and served for a few more years, later going to Korea, where he was also wounded, this time in the leg.
Oh. That line of tanks my uncle was traveling in--it was the 10th Armored division, US Army. They were in France. The commander was General George Patton. Yeah, you're right. It was the Ardennes-Alsace campaign. Most people know it as the Battle of the Bulge.
Many years later, after much spiritual and mental suffering, and many drinking binges, a fellow veteran came alongside my uncle one day and said, "I am not leaving here till you dry out. I'm gonna come back every day till we beat this thing." He said someone had once done the same thing for him. He handed my uncle a cup of black coffee and got him to start talking. I was standing in my uncle's living room, watching them. That fellow soldier did not leave my uncle's house that day till he was sure my uncle was sober, and came back to see him every day thereafter to encourage, to share a cup of coffee, and mostly to listen. He was there on the worst days, when when the going got tough and my uncle got the shakes. But my uncle had truly laid down the bottle that day and never picked it back up. He finally had the one thing he had needed all those years. Somebody came alongside him and let him know he wasn't fighting this battle alone. It wasn't somebody who had any clinical training but he sure did know how to counsel and minister to my uncle. Although this was near the end of my uncle's life, he did have a few more years left, during which we enjoyed watching him spend his days in peace and enjoying relationships with his family and with Jesus. Thanks to a fellow soldier's dermination to do what he was trained to do -- to make a difference, and to make sure nobody got left behind.
Thank God for veterans like the one who came alongside my uncle and stuck with him till he talked it all out, and found peace. Like the chaplains who minister in our VA centers ! Thanking God for you and your ministry !
Don't need clinical training to understand, if you have been there, the thing that no one can understand.
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