There have been some comments lately, concerning the returning vets and how to welcome them. Old Skook has been trying to make this into an art form for several years; give me a few minutes and I’ll share my techniques and I will tell you of the day a few years ago, when I was called upon to be a better man than I am.
This activity requires stealth and nerves of steel. When you are in a fine dining establishment like Denny’s or Elmers, use your scouting skills and spot the ME vets sitting together or singly. Keep them under observation and time your meal so that you finish ahead of them, then estimate the cost of their meal and walk by their table and say, “this one’s on me soldier” and drop a ten or a twenty on their table and walk away before they can protest. That’s a great devious trick for Patriots, it always makes me chuckle when I start my car to leave.
Once I saw the chance to be a real hero and I played it to the max. Every few years, I’ll walk around the streets of Oceanside and recall those nights forty years ago when I walked those same streets with nothing to do. Except on this particular night, I saw a young Lance corporal in Dress Blues with a bride still in her wedding gown, looking to be about seven months along. They were aimlessly looking in store windows and I saw my chance for yet another dastardly deed.
I palmed a hundred and walked up to that young Marine and shook his hand and congratulated him on committing matrimony. I held on to his right hand (they say I have a grip like a gorilla, so that part was easy) I grabbed his shoulder with my left hand and told him to take his bride out on the town and spend all the money and let tomorrow take care of itself. I turned my hand so that it was on top and the C note wouldn’t fall on the side walk and left them at a brisk (at least for me) run.
He was outraged and said he couldn’t accept the money, but I was laughing like a schizophrenic and double timing my way out of there. I am 63 years old and know that I can’t outrun a young Marine, but when they are dragging a pregnant woman, I can outrun them all.
Now on a more serious note, I was driving on I 70 and I stopped at a truck stop in Western Colorado for a meal and spied a young soldier that looked like he had been dealt a few bad hands. I decided to buy him a meal and dropped a twenty on his table and said, “thanks soldier”. I rushed to the cash register and a bunch of seniors crowded in front of me and some of them looked mean, so I decided to wait my turn to pay.
The young soldier walked up to me and asked, “Sir, are you former military?” I told him, I once wore the uniform and that I wasn’t an officer, so he didn’t need to call me Sir.
He asked if I would have a cup of coffee with him; he needed someone to talk with.
You can’t refuse a request like that, I sat down at his booth and looked him directly in the eye and said, “What’s wrong son?”
He told me of his best friend in that war in the Middle East. They were planning to go back to California and live near each other the rest of their lives, but one day while he was on the perimeter and his friend was sleeping, a single mortar round landed directly on the hootch they shared and his best friend was killed instantly. He saw it happen in slow motion and clear detail.
His voice began to quake and he was barely keeping the tears back. Our neighbors at the tables around us were interrupting their meals to eavesdrop; however, the Lord gave me a cold stern stare and after I looked at the nosy people, they found a renewed interest in their pancakes and eggs.
He went on to tell me that he had a wife and a baby son that he had never seen waiting for him in California and he didn’t know if he could face them after the loss of his friend, he was actually dreading the rest of the drive back to California. I listened to the tale unwind and finally heard my cue, “What do you think I should do?”
I reached deep down inside and hoped I could say something that was worthwhile. “You think your friend is gone, he’s not gone, he’s here with us right now; as a matter of fact, he’s a little disappointed in you for being reluctant to drive home and see your bride and baby. He’s never going to have a son, so he’s planning on living his life through you. He will be beside you for 50 or 60 years, every mistake you make will be a disappointment for him. He expects you to be a man, the best man that you can be, because he can only live through you. He wants to watch you play ball with your son, take him fishing, help him with homework, he wants you to be the dad he will never have a chance to be. If you hide like a whipped dog and feel sorry for yourself, he will be ashamed of you. The best thing you can do is to drive on to California and be the best husband and father that you can possibly be, because you will never be alone, not even when you check out of this big poker game they call life.”
Well, that did it. he lost it and it was all I could do to keep from crying, but I figured it was my job to maintain discipline. I walked with him to his car, we shook hands and he thanked me several times and told me he felt much better.
He drove West and I drove East, about twenty minutes later, I pulled over and broke down.
A professional horseman for over 50 years, Skook continues to work with horses. Skook has finished an historical novel, Fifty Thousand Years, that traces a mitochondrial line of DNA from 50,000 years ago to the present. The story follows a line of courageous women, from the Ice Ages to the present, as they meet the challenges of survival with grit and creativity. These are not women who whimper of being victims, they meet the challenges of survival as women who use their abilities without excuses or remorse, these women are winners, they are our ancestors.
Fifty Thousand Years is available in paperback and e-book, it is getting great reviews. You can purchase a copy here; Visit me on Facebook.
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Skook, I sincerely wish that there were WAY more people like you not just in America, but the entire world. Admire your passion for our troops and country. From one brother in arms to another, thank you for your past services and your continuing support you give to those who continue to serve. Semper Fi and God bless.
You got me crying now. You did good Skook, real good, may have saved his life, right place at the right time, thank goodness it was you there for him.
I’ve done that several times over the years, I’ve also been paying for my green fees and noticed a vet behind me inline and picked his up too. The little things.
Here’s another thing folks can do and it’s not really that difficult. Instead of taking the family to an amusement park one day, take them to a VA hospital and visit a few of the guys/gals there. Go to a senior citizen home and visit with some folks you never met who served in long ago wars.
One of the best ways to show appreciation for the latest returning vets is to be there when they get off the plane! Then pick one or two and give them your phone number to call if they need to talk or need help getting back into society.
Great post.
ROBERT: hi, WHAT GREAT IDEAS you gave, thank you. bye
Skook, you got this old devil dog’s eyes just a little misty this early in the morning, thank you for the reminder. I live near the base of the Big Red 1 and the next line of troop coming back is going to have to see my presence, in my Dress Blues, as a reminder of the thanks long over due. We the People owe each and every man and woman in uniform much. The CinC owes them an apology.
SKOOKUM: hi, I cannot see my keys, now, I cannot continiue, bye
What an awesome article. It brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing. God bless and keep you. Our God is an awesome God. He works in many ways.
I had this happen to me, was in line to get a bit of lunch on post. There was a van in front of me, a woman, and, I guess a kid or two. I was in uniform, in my little red race car, white hair and all. When I got to the window to pay, the girl said thank you, it was paid in gratitude. It was four years ago. Paid forward a lot, remembered forever.
Just for info, I am 68, still teaching pilots, and totally amazed at the skill and judgement of today’s soldiers.
There it is.
Damn Skookum, glad I wear sunglasses indoor when I work, other wise the girls in my office would think there was something wrong with my eyes after reading this.
@Skook
People around me say I tend to be unemotional, about pretty much everything. If they could only see the tear streaking down my cheek right now. Thank you for the story you related. My own little acknowledgment to the service members I come across is a simple look straight into their eyes, and a slight nod of my head in thanks. It usually gets me a nod to myself, and the service member subtly standing a little prouder. It’s called respect, something our “friends” on the left wouldn’t know much about, but our service members really appreciate. I thank them because, although I never asked them to sacrifice their lives, or parts of it, for me, it is much appreciated on my part.
Thank you Skookum.
I was in the Denver Air Port summer of 2005. With a long layover I decided to pop into one of the better (not great, just better than a sandwich shop) restaurants. There I had an excellent seat from across the large crowded dinning room to watch as a pinging new Marine ate dinner with his parents. He looked anxious, they looked worried, he wore the badges that indicated he had already completed his combat arms training, I knew he was eastward bound.
I noted which waiter was attending their table and when the waiter passed my table I asked for a refill on my water and passed him my credit card with a note to pay the Marine family’s check with a note of thanks for their family’s courage and service. Noting how proud all of America is of them. From the US Air Force.
I spent the rest of my meal making certain that I did not make eye contact, trying to keep a profile turned to them. When the waiter dropped off the check marked paid with the note I wrote attached, the family looked around the room trying to find who might have been the culprit, but not seeing anyone obvious they turned to leave and as they passed my table on the way out, that young Marine stopped, turned and looked at me for a second and said, “You are a vet, aren’t you?” I smiled and replied that yes I was. He then extended his hand and said, “Thank you for your service, I’ll take it from here.” I replied “The watch is yours. Stay low, keep dry. We are with you always.”
As I watched them leave I uttered a silent prayer for them that they would have that joyous reunion that only returning vets and their families know. And that that fine young man would someday be the father of many sons in peace time.
Imagine my surprise when I went to leave to find that some SOB paid my meal check while I was looking misty eyed after that family! I cast a suspicious eye at a pilot who seemed to be snickering away at a half empty cup of coffee while facing out a window. I gave a nod to the reflection, he nodded back.
TSgt Ciz: hi, I CAN barely see my keys again, good life story, and do I ever
LOVE that punch line of yours. BYE
AND I love this BLOG, CURT.
@TSgt Ciz
It’s not often that I can laugh so quickly after shedding a tear, but you’ve done it to me, lol. Nothing like have respect for your fellow brothers-in-arms, doing a good turn and having one done on you. Great story! Thank you!
As I don’t travel much after this last Indiana trip I don’t see a lot of military people either going to or coming from. When I do and have time a simple question or two and a “Semper Fi” is all it takes and they know. A hell of a lot different from when I was in back in 64.
“Semper Fi”
Thank you all for your stories and the tears. I wish more people would just appreciate each other and say thank you for all the work that our soldiers do. I think that appreciation should extend to our police officers and our firefighters as well who put themselves in harms way to protect us. Those were beautiful stories.
Skook- Your a good man. Am sure you did a lot to help that young man.
Johngault, (if that’s really who you are ;~) )
I thought about the that pilot and wondered, if it was him, did he perhaps do it because I beat him to the punch on the Marine’s family, or had he seen the Marine stop at my table. Ultimately it brought home to me that I wasn’t alone in the appreciation for our soldiers. So I should be too proud of that, just proud of those I served with, in and out of time.
One thing that I left out was how the wait staff handled everything so quietly and were so supportive. The waiter said it was the coolest thing he ever had a chance to do and that he would look for chances to do it himself in the future. He did swear it wasn’t him that covered my check.
Great commentary guys, it is all about our young patriots, don’t be shy or bashful just do “whatever it takes”. Some just appreciate a Thank You, others might be in trouble, just knowing that people care can make the difference.
God Bless our troops!
Long live the Republic!
WELL I’m leaving; THIS POST ‘s commenters ARE too crybaby for me, bye
@ Beez
😆 😀 😆 😀
PATVANN: hi, there is only 4 of them,
WELL it’s enough for me to come back. bye
Skookum: Thank you for sharing this story. What a privilege to be used by the Holy Spirit to give hope to one in despair. The experience leaves us humbled, uplifted, and grateful. You were an angel in human form — God’s messenger — for this young soldier and his family. And you only had to take the time to listen — to the young soldier and to the Holy Spirit inside you.
This topic is quite timely in that I’ve just returned from the Restoring Honor rally in DC. Now I know how I can help. Thank you to all our servicemen and women. As a child of a Korean war vet, I know how blessed I am to be able to live this life.
@Robert: #3 I live right across the street from a Naval reserve base and heard on the news different times of soldiers returning there. I asked about being notified about them coming home and was told they are very careful who they tell so that the wrong people won’t show up. It is a sad thing when a few people can spoil it for the ones fighting for the protester’s right to protest without their heads being cut off.
Smorg #26, There are ways of finding out those little details. Friends, family, churches, base commanders, unit leaders, among other ways… You can always check with Military Bloggers such as ACE and a few others, they have some good info on who is coming back and they may share it. Also keep an eye on mil blogs for info.
But I get your point. It should be much easier to find out when, where and who is returning.
@TSgt Ciz: #13 Don’t forget about the police officer on the street. For years I have done it like TSgt Ciz does. I will find out what waiter or waitress they have and ask them to bring me the check and I would ask them not to say who paid it. I also give them a note to give the officer or officers thanking them for being out here. In the note I always said that the tip was up to them. I haven’t had many chances to do the same for soldiers.
I am guessing some police departments don’t allow the officers to accept free meals, but if it is paid for, and they can’t find the person who paid it, either they have to accept it or the waiter or waitress will get a huge tip.
I suggest more people do this once-in-a-while for our police, fire fighters, and soldiers, depending on the financial condition of the giver. If you do it in a way they don’t know who paid for it they can’t argue with you.
@Robert: #27 I can understand family members not wanting strangers to know when their loved one is coming home, especially if they have been wounded. It only takes one wrong person finding out when and where and they are there to protest.
Smorg/Robert
Look up the flights/arrival-times from Bangor Maine to your local airport on any of the Travelocity-type web services.
-That’s the secret, that isn’t really a secret. 😉
@Robert: #27 I am guessing the people at this base don’t want outsiders, so I am not going to push it. I will be moving away in January anyway.
Gee, it’s nice to hear others succumb to the tears. Sucks when you are at work and it hits you.
What a wonderful story Skookum. You know, you really do have a way with words. I know there’s a word for your style, but damn if I can figure it out.
Love to read the things written by you military guys. E gad, you know so much.
Thanks for all the stories guys, and military women, they are ALWAYS interesting to read.
Some have no problem saying F O, can I say you all sound like a sexy bunch? 😆
Skookum, however tall you may be with your gorilla grip, you are one mountain of a man. Thanks for sharing your stories.
While I cannot speak for all installations, at least locally we have a group which has been giving our folks a supportive sendoff, providing regular shipments of hand-knitted hats, snacks, batteries, phone cards, etc. and then we come out at whatever time of the day, usually on very short notice, to welcome them home. Little enough to do. People who are interested in this activity should check with the base involved.
While driving through the desert yesterday, I heard of a group that is providing transportation to and from the area airports to Twenty Nine Palms, a $150.00 cab ride minimum. I can’t remember the name of the group, but they are doing things to raise gas money for volunteers, the lady heading it up sounded wonderful. Maybe if some of you have some extra cash, you might consider helping with some gas money for the volunteers. From Palm Sprigs Airport to Twenty Nine Palms there is at least an hour and a half of driving each way, to Ontario you must add another hour each way, they have made over 5,000 trips. I am glad I wrote this, I thought I was waging a one man campaign. Now I learn, there are a lot more people doing way more than me. The lady heading up this operation sounded so fresh and bubbly on the radio, Old Skook was touched.
TODAY ON OCTOBER 20 2011,
SAME TEARS, SAME CHOKE AHUM AHUK, A COUPLE OF SNEEZES TOO,
I LOVE YOU ALL.
modnie thank’s for getting me back here with your comment.