Life, Interrupted

Frank Woodruff Buckles lied about his age when he enlisted in 1917. Today, at 107, he is the last living "Doughboy", who fought in what was later called The Great War, the war to end all wars.

Of course, it didn't end all wars. Frank was working in Manila December, 1941 when the Japanese invaded, and he was tossed into a concentration camp. He stopped weighing himself when he hit 100 lbs. He contracted Beriberi, and still suffers from the damage. But he did keep his fellow prisoners exercising, pointing out that they'd need to be strong when they finally got back home.

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/people-places/last-doughboy.html?c=y&page=1 Also, Making Light always lists great sites to read about WWI and life at that time.

http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/archives/010790.html#010790

Every time I meet a veteran, I try to remember to thank him (or her) for their service, no matter when they served. Because so many of them never had anyone ask -- the idea was to get back to the real world and forget, if they could, that war business. My father has mentioned Korea less than a dozen times, and never talks about combat.

One veteran of Vietnam, whom I met over at BB Rovers while waiting for lunch partners, told me I was the first person who had ever thanked him for serving.

I figure their country called, and they went. The politics, the opinions? Nothing -- nothing to someone uprooting a life and risking it for the Constitution.

So...when you meet someone and find out that they served -- say thanks. You may be the first one to say those words. Those words may help tone down a lot of bad memories of returning home.

I wasn't old enough to make the connection to thank my grandfather, who was in WWI, or my uncles, who served in WWII. I hope to repair that the next time I speak with my Dad.