Two Brown Mugs

Once again the great Michael Haz puts Veterans Day in perspective:

Michael Haz said...
My favorite soldier? A sailor, actually. My old man.

He dropped out of twelfth grade to enlist in the Navy. Flew Stearman bi-planes for a short time, then went into combat training, and shipped to Guadalcanal. Saw heavy, heavy action.

Never once in his life complained about that, or anything else for that matter.

On leave before shipping out to Guadalcanal, he found out that his dad had stomach cancer. Not treatable.

Granddad bought a couple of brown mugs, and the two of them spent a week together, drinking home brewed beer in the kitchen from those mugs, fully knowing that either way, one or both of them would be dead soon. It was their last time together.

Dad reported to Great Lakes, then shipped to the South Pacific. While Dad was in fighting in the battle of Guadalcanal, Granddad died.

Grandma wrapped up those brown mugs and after the war was over and I was born, she gave them to Dad.

I hit a rough patch a few years back, and the docs needed to take my heart out, fix some stuff, then put it back in. The outcome was iffy.

The old man stopped in a few days before surgery and gave me those brown mugs. I never knew about them before then. We hoisted a few and talked late into a night.

I made it through. I've got the mugs now, wrapped up in linen cloth and safe in a cabinet. All to soon, I'm afraid, I'll need to unwrap them for a last beer with the old man. He's 87 now.

Then I'll pass them along to my son.


Happy Veterans Day and God bless you and your Dad.