SwiftVets.com

[stupson]

I have no idea who wrote this, but it is the best I have read on the subject. Read to bottom to get pertinence.

IF IT DOESN'T QUACK LIKE A DUCK ..

I'm not worthy to question John Kerry's war record.

Because I don't have one.

I spent the Vietnam War in elementary school. And the four years I was in the Army were all behind a desk. My fort was unofficially known as "Uncle Ben's Rest Home."

So I don't know anything about war.

Though I do know a little bit about men who've been to war. I've been around plenty of those. Like my step-father. He got bunged up pretty bad in France. I know that because I saw him in a swimming suit once. But he never talked about it. Not once.

If you asked him about the war he'd tell hilarious stories about basic training, or where the guys he served with were from, or how fun it was learning to fly the gliders, or the time they stole the ambulance to go into town and get drunk in France, or a few of the phrases in German he learned.

But he'd never actually talk about the war. Unless he was really drunk.
In which case he still wouldn't talk about it. He'd cry about it. He'd put his head in his arms in the wee hours of the morning and sob to himself about how the men around him were broken and torn when the gliders crash landed into the French countryside. But that was only once or twice, and that was never about him.

And the little box of medals at the bottom of his footlocker never came out. It was kind of the same way at the Legion and the VFW. Every day he'd check in at both places, to sign the book and to have a beer, and I would tag along. All those men had been in the service, and most had been in combat, but I never heard a war story.

Lots of Army stories, and Navy stories, sure. About guys they knew and leaves they were on and officers they messed with. But nothing about the war.

It was the same way in the Army.

In my day, it seemed like everybody above staff sergeant or captain had been in Vietnam. I went in 10 years after the war ended but the guys on the second half of their careers had all gone.

You could tell when they wore their dress uniforms. But that was the only time.

Men didn't talk about what they'd done in the war. They didn't boast of their accomplishments. They didn't brag about their medals. But if you chanced to see them in their dress uniforms, with the rows of service ribbons, you could read their history there, you could see that those who'd done the most spoke of it the least.

Like one of our drill sergeants in basic training.

Buffing the floor in his office one day we saw the service ribbons pinned to his Class A uniform on the coat rack. Comparing them to the poster in the company day room we learned he'd gotten the Silver Star, the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart.

We asked about them and he made us do push-ups for being nosey.
The night before graduation, when he welcomed us as fellow soldiers, we asked him again, we almost pestered him. Finally he relented and gave us two sentences: "I was in a war. I got hurt." And that's all he'd say.

Kind of like a man I know, who received the Medal of Honor. One night he stood in a long line to shake hands with Colin Powell. The man, because of the nature of the event, wore his medal around his neck. As he came to Colin Powell the man said, "General, it's an honor to meet you." And Colin Powell responded, "No, sir - it's an honor to meet you." Anyway, I know this man, and he's often asked to tell his story, of how he earned the Medal of Honor. And he never does. Oh, he answers, and he talks, and he inspires, and he talks about the war. But he neglects the part about the lives he saved and the courage he showed, and instead talks about a young Vietnamese man who helped him to safety when his legs were too shot through to hold him anymore.

I don't know anything about war.

But I do know a little bit about men who've gone to war.

And none of them act the way John Kerry does.

None of them brag about, boast of, talk about or otherwise try to benefit from their service. They don't prostitute their time in uniform for personal gain and ambition.

They all modestly and insistently say that they "didn't do anything." They minimize their contributions and put them in the context of the similarly courageous and noble service provided by their comrades.

A true hero doesn't boast.

In fact, he kind of keeps his deeds to himself. Which is what makes John Kerry so different. Which is what makes John Kerry so unbelievable.

I don't know war. But I do know war heroes. And he's not one of them!

[Knighthawk]

That's me in the middle, my Dad on the left and 'Wild Bill" Franklin on the right. If you want to know about Bill Franklin, you have to read "We Were Soldiers Once...And Young." Bill was a Platoon Leader with the 1st Battalion 7th Cavalry. Bill Franklin is truly one of Americas heroes, and I am humbled and honored to know him.

My Dad served in the US Air Force for 20 years and had a second career after, raised a family and provided for us. My parents are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary next year. My Dad is a the finest man I know.....bar none....thanks Dad.

These men are heroes. John Kerry is not fit to shine their shoes, let alone be in the same category as they are.



_________________
Regards,
Brian

Beware of the lollipop of mediocrity! Lick it once and you'll suck forever.

If guns kill people, then I can blame misspelled words on my pencil.

Knighthawk's Pictures!

[Hondo]

Ralph Peters weighs in on the same subject at


http://www.nypost.com/postopinion/opedcolumnists/29339.htm


I can also say much the same from personal experience. One of my late uncles also fought in World War II. He was also with one of the airborne divisions.

He fought at Normandy, Market Garden, and the Battle of the Bulge. At the latter, he was a bit too close to the impact point of a German 88mm round. His parents were notified - erroneously - that he was missing and presumed dead. He survived and lived for nearly 50 years afterwards.

He never brought up what he did during the war or talked much about it. I never asked. I wish now I had.

In later years, I found out that he'd been awarded the Silver Star for taking out, with a couple of buddies, a German machine gun nest blocking his unit's advance. I only found that he'd been awarded the Silver Star when he complained that some low-lifes who had broken into his apartment had stolen both the medal and original certificate. Even then, he didn't describe what he had done. I found that out later from someone else.

No, real heroes don't advertise their deeds. They have enough class not to need to do so.
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"War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things: the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks nothing worth a war, is worse."
-- John Stuart Mill

[DevilDon]

My father served in WWII and he never said a word. My brother served in Vietnam and we'd see them at late hours in deer camp before the fire talking about such things in hushed tones. We all respected their privacy and left them distance.

One evening my Dad had a few drinks and I was talking about the fellowship of the military and he extended his hand. I took it and he looked me directly in the eye and said "It's interesting how God made hands, how thumbs fit with fingers. It's just perfect for holding someone's hand as they die." That's all he ever said to me about war.

My brother in Vietnam once confided in me that Dad told him he promised to always respect God if he were to survice Peliliu and that he would always be a good Christian.

My brother reports he "would rather I look into his war on my own". I have and I find a peculiar pattern. Most vets don't talk about it, it's not sensationalism or journalism or any of the sort. It's buddies dying and the want to make it better.

My daughter is currently serving and I'd like to see her again. Keep up the good work Swiftvets, and please, everyone else, remember Vietnam and know that John Kerry will bring misery to those who serve. He's never flip-flopped on this angle.

How about that form 180 John?

[Redleg]

When I was in high school, one day after football practice, with a group of of my buddies, we stopped at the local convience store and talked a while. Sooner or later the subject of war and combat always came up. While we were talking, a older person that I have seen before and was regarded as one of the local drunks came up and asked if we would like to hear about a real war.
He went on to state that he worked on a Navy landing craft (on some unknown island) in the Pacific during WWII, as the craft was being unloaded by a few Marines, he happened to catch a glimps of a figure running across the beach towards the landing craft. Without thinking, he turned and unloaded his M-1 Carbine at the figure. The figure happened to be a young Japanese woman with a granade in her hand and she was killed instantly.
At this point my buddies told the old Vet that he was crazy and they took off. Because to the sadness in the old Vets eyes and the fact that he spoke excellent English, I stayed around for a while longer and listened how he described the young Japanese woman's beautiful looks and the body wounds that were caused by the Carbine's rounds, how he lost his good job, how he lost his wife and kids and how his best days now were taking a bus ride to the end of the line and sitting in a sunny field with a couple of bottles of Thunderbird wine for company.
Later on I rarely saw the old Vet, and did not talk to him as I didn't want to be uncool with my friends. But I didn't forget the sorrow that he had in his eyes when he had told the story. Years later when I did my bit in the 'Nam, I would think about the old Vet and understand that in his era perhaps there were not many support groups for the old Vet to turn to.
I also do not discuss certain events of my wartime service as I do not really want to think about the images that are always with me.
Sometimes I still think about the old Vet and cry a little for him, the young Japanese woman and even the Marines on that beach.
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FIRE MISSION: Kerry campaign in line of sight.