This is my first Veterans Day without the veteran who had the most influence on my life, my father. In addition to all the usual reflection and gratefulness I feel each year for every veteran who served throughout our history, those who served with me, and those who are serving now, there is a very special part of my heart that accepts that Veterans Day will always be different for me now.

Dad enlisted in 1931, in the cavalry, in El Paso, Texas. He was a bandsman who could sit a horse. He'd never been an athletic sort but saw the Army as a terrific career possibility. They needed musicians as well as infantrymen. He really took to Army life, serving at both Cheyenne and El Paso in the band. At the time, there was a band leader, a first sergeant, and no one else above the rank of corporal in a band. He told me many times that since he chose to remain in the band that he was the ranking corporal in the US Army for many years.

In early 1941 my father was selected to go to the Army War College, to become a Warrant Officer and lead his own band. While there he met my mother. During WWII they were in Arizona and California, mostly with a brief stint at the Greenbrier. Dad formed his own band at the Presido, complete with bag pipes. He also perfected his flying skills since he was able to check out aircraft and fly himself around to recruit musicians, acquire music and calendar events for the band. He told me of enlisting many Hollywood musicians for his first band in Arizona because during the War many of them werre looking for work and a way to serve the armed forces. They spent a lot of time in Los Angeles playing for movie premiers and in San Francisco for departing and arriving troop ships.

Dad was sent to Germany in 1945 to assist with demobilizing troops. I was never quite sure how that fit into the job description of a band leader, but he would never tell me just what he did for the first few months there. He was tasked with forming a band school there as well. That also sounded a bit strange, but I have seen papers that indicate that he did indeed do that. He in fact set up several band schools in Germany in 1946 and 1947. That experience was quite an adventure. He flew L-5's and such around and took some enemy fire. He also got stuck in the bomb bay of a B-25 once.

His best tale was of having an integrated band before it was fashionable to have one. He had no clue about who was being assigned to him and just made room assignments without regard for who might be who. Of course, there were some "mistakes" made, which he dutifully promised to correct when he "got around to it." When he found time a few days later to address the "problem," the bandsmen no longer cared. They had discovered on their own that they got along just fine and no one cared about anyone else's skin color. And so, the US Army was unofficially integrated.

Along the way, especially in Korea, Dad saw real fire fights. Funny, but he never told me about those until after I returned from Desert Storm. Until then, all I knew was that his band played a lot of concerts and marched in a lot of parades. When he arrived on post in Korea, he was the ranking officer for several weeks. He had no band there yet and apparently functioned quite well as the CO. He preferred telling the story of hosting Marilyn Monroe for a visit.

The legacy from my father is not dissimilar from many that others relate. From our fathers we learned the lessons that carried us through our military careers. Dad taught me all about honor and duty. He lived it every day of his life. He expects nothing less from me.

Daddy succumbed to Alzheimer's. It is a terribly painful disease, for everyone. We had a very poignant moment early in the 2004 Presidential campaign. sKerry was in town and Dad was determined to put in an appearance with a few of us who were rallying against the fool. I knew it would be difficult for him, but he had his wits about him when it was time to leave. So, off we went. To save him walking, and since he was having a good day, I dropped him off at the venue, parked the car, and returned to find him in deep conversation with some union troublemakers. He couldn't read their signs and mistakenly thought they were on our side! These same idiots later came to attempt to intimidate us and said a couple of unflattering things to me. My dad stepped up and began thumping one of the union thugs on the chest, backed him down the steps, and left me rather speechless. Bless him!

There weren't a lot of good days after that, but I remember that one on this Veterans Day. My father, defending his little girl, even under those circumstances. And I didn't think there were many more lessons to learn about honor.

Enjoy this day all you veterans. I know that I will. Among all the parades and other ceremonies will be the memory of my father, reminding me to always act with honor, to report for duty whenever and wherever called upon to do so. Sometime during the day I will probably also be reminded that we may still some day be called upon to put our lives on the line for our country. Just as generations before us have done, we will be there.

Contributed by Bobbie (OWB) on November 10, 2006 at 05:08 PM in Bobbie Craig | Permalink

Comments

Posted by: ponsdorf

My pop was KIA in Korea. My world is different. Thanks Bobbie.

Posted by: ponsdorf | Nov 10, 2006 5:48:11 PM

Posted by: The Gray Dog

All I can say is wow! That was very moving. Being a "bandsman" in civilian life myself, I salute your father. I know you miss him. Once again, Wow!

Posted by: The Gray Dog | Nov 10, 2006 6:09:27 PM

Posted by: Rurik

Thank you for letting us into your memories. Very moving. A "safe job" in the band is not always so safe after all. Alwyas honor to him.

Posted by: Rurik | Nov 10, 2006 6:33:49 PM

Posted by: 1st Cav

WOW is right! What a fine father you have. Can't use "had" because he is still so much with you. Thanks for telling this inspiring story. Makes me remember my WW-I grandfather.

Posted by: 1st Cav | Nov 10, 2006 7:43:45 PM