• Published 22nd Jun 2012
  • 12,399 Views, 980 Comments

Flight 19 - ImChangingmynameforreaso



Flight 19 disappears and ends up in an unfamiliar country filled with unfamiliar people. Or ponies.

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Intermission: Lest We Forget.

I honestly don’t care what your thoughts or opinions are of the topic of November 11th. I ask you, no, beg you, to please read this. I am a soldier now. One day, this will be me. This will be your friends, your family, your fellow country men.
We are giving our lives for you, and all we ask in return, is your respect.

~~~

November 11th. A day of remorse. A day of regret. A day of Remembrance.

This is not only a day that marks the end of World War 1. This is The day where we, as a nation, take just two minutes of our lives to remember. World War 1, World War 2, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Kosovo, Afghanistan, and every conflict that Canada has been involved in.

On this day, we remember the lost. We remember what we gave, so that we could either continue our peaceful existence, or to try and give what we have to other countries.

Many people don't realise how much this day effects veterans. Many of the soldiers I know, have lost close friends in combat. Many of us, have relatives who have given their life to the uniform.

This is the one day that it is socially acceptable for a soldier to cry, and I beg you to cry with them. Because more often than not, they were there.
No one returns from conflict uninjured.

Remember the past, those who died.
Think about the present, those who have to live with injuries, mental and physical.
Look to the future, and ways we can help them.

Please, tomorrow, go thank a veteran. Don't ask them what they did, just go up to them, and thank them.


In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
(In Flanders Fields, by LtCol John McCrae)

I've finally picked up the torch, and I will not let it fall.
~GoldenArbiter

~~~

I’ve never served in the military, nor fired a gun in anger. My only experience in firearms is shooting at paper targets at the local range.

I’ve had two family members who did instill an appreciation for their devotion to duty and their service, however. One was an uncle who served in the US Navy aboard several aircraft carriers during his enlistment. He was involved in action during the Lebanon conflict in the 1980s and finished his career aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt, which I was fortunate enough to visit and actually sail on three times.

The other was my grandfather. He joined the US Merchant Marine at the age of 16 and served in the Pacific during World War 2. When he was discharged at the age of 18 at the end of the war, he joined the brand new US Air Force and served for the next 27 years until his retirement as a chief master sergeant. I grew up in my grandfather’s house. From him, I learned a love of country, a devotion to duty, and an appreciation of his dignity, honor and personal integrity that has only grown over the years, especially since he passed away three years ago.

From both of these men, I have learned that the people who fight for us are just like us: they have their own likes and dislikes. They have their own faults and foibles. They all, however, stepped forward at some time in their lives and sacrificed comfort, safety and the closeness of their loved ones and stood between us and the darkness. This is something that has been too often marginalized or taken for granted.

For them, for all that came before, and for all of those now standing guard, I offer my sincere and heartfelt appreciation and thanks.

-D.M.

Author's Note:

November 11th is dedicated to everyone in active service, or past service, from every country. Everyone who died for an ideal that was not necessarily their own. Even the Taliban, and other groups of extremists.