In Memorium. . .

 

The shoulder patch of the 13th Airborne Division, my late maternal grandfather's outfit for much of his service during 1942-1946.

 

Thinking today of my late maternal grandfather, David Lewis Stokes from Lexington North Carolina, who answered the call like so many others more than 80 years ago following the attack on Pearl Harbor.  Initially anti-aircraft personnel, he later trained and served as glider infantry before taking the opportunity to train as a paratrooper ahead of the planned invasion of France.  

Miraculously, he, along with his two older brothers and three brothers-in-law (Uncles Baxter, Jack, Sid, Charlie, and Bob) all managed to come home and lead relatively normal lives for many decades afterwards.

Likewise, a special mention of the only First World War veteran I knew, Harrison Terrell, the neighbor of my maternal grandparents, who I used to see and say hello to daily as I climbed off the school bus each afternoon as a small child.  A Philadelphia attorney, and a Quaker, he nevertheless joined up when the United States entered that conflict in 1917, and was sent to France where he served until the end of that war, the journey home, and eventual demobilization.

I knew all of these men well as a child and young (-er) person.  The only one who ever spoke of his military service was my grandfather Dave, and then in somewhat humorous terms about his training and early run-ins with irate sergeants.  He mentioned once, in response to one of my childish questions, that he had been close by when a friend was killed (Melvin Brown).  The subject was changed, and even at seven years old I somehow knew not to ask again.  

There were a few times during my formative years when the rest of the family would be woken in the night by his quiet cries of "No, no!" across the upstairs hall before my grandmother would wake him, and he would return to sleep.  I have always suspected those episodes were related.

These men were my idols as a boy and remain so today.  I can't imagine doing what they were asked to do. My deepest respect goes out to them and others who have served in various conflicts past and present.  

As parts of the world seem to be unraveling in late 2023, I struggle with the following questions, for which the terrible answers seem already plain as day.  Have we learned nothing from the horrors of the past?  And why must history invariably repeat itself? 

-- Heinz-Ulrich