A Most Rewarding Trip...

Well, I am just about finished with the close-out details of our most recent "World War II Veterans to Washington DC" which took place Sept. 25-27. I must say, this was one of the most rewarding non-family things I have been involved with in a while.

I know, if you've been reading this blog, you're probably wondering if I got the dates mixed up. No, I didn't. I did not actually go on the "trip." With the death of Wink's son, the viewing and the funeral all happening then, I did not go. But, I suppose if you do a good job with all your tasks, the trip will go on without you. Guess what -- it did.

I became involved with this group in early August and hit the ground running. There really is a lot of work in getting twenty-six 80+ year-old WWII Vets to DC and back over a 3-day weekend so they can see their memorial. Kinda reminds me of moving troops to some distant post. There is still a lot of interaction with people: raising funds, securing meals/transportation/medical assistance, taking care of personnel matters, and so forth. Everyone involved is a volunteer but they really function like staff officers, you know S-1, S-2, S-3, S-4, etc.

Let me tell you some of the highlights. We spent lots of time raising funds and passing out literature at Wal-Mart, Krogers, the Farmer's Market, and the Applefest. I have a whole new respect for Salvation Army bell ringers. I also introduced a sponsorship program that ended up getting 14 of the Vets sponsored thru a Memorial Donor. We also coordinated with the local schools to get students to write letters to the Vets for "Mail Call." Part of this also included having letters from relatives, the people on the committee, and friends. These letters were packaged up and given to the Vets on the bus.

Oh, yeah, we took a bus. There are other groups that do this and they fly, but they do it in one long, long, long day which is pretty hard on these old folks. Our bus trip over three days is quite a bit easier on them. It does add to our logistic issues, however. We take a wheel chair for each Vet and most of their travel companions. Some of them think they can walk everywhere, and then after about 10 minutes at the monuments in DC, they are pretty happy to have a ride.

We have several dinners for them. One is the pre-departure meal where they get their "mobilization orders." We also have two dinners for them in the DC area, after which they get to sit around and talk about the day, and their experiences (if they want to -- which most do).

We have a committee that organizes a special send-off and one that receives them when they get back. When they leave, school kids from the Sidney Middle School come out and line the road (which is also lined to the interstate with US flags) to waive good-bye to the group. The buses are escorted by a motorcycle group from Sidney to Troy.

So, this trip is now over, and guess what -- it's time to start planning for the next one. The first piece of action the group took was to appoint me their chairman, so now, I'm spending a lot of my retirement time working on this. And you know what --this is cutting in to my golfing time!! Sheesh!! Ah, what the heck, I like this kind of stuff, and the old Vets really do deserve it. Never lose sight of the fact that old age needs so little but needs that little so much (Margaret Willour).

"I do not love the bright sword for it's sharpness, nor the arrow for it's swiftness, but rather the warrior for his glory and that which they defend."

Hooah

A little Charlie Brown tree...

Today, four of us old timers put down a final marker for a fallen Soldier. Barney, Bob, Wink and I placed a flag and a plaque at the base of an Autumn Sunset maple tree that we had planted in memory of Wink's son, SPC Damon Winkleman who was killed in Afghanistan in September (See article below).

My wife, Pam, and I thought it would be nice to plant a tree for Damon rather than get flowers. So, we shared our idea with some of our Army buddies and 13 of them responded favorably. I'm sure we could have had more, but this worked out fine and got the ball rolling. We had the tree planted at Damon's high school in Loudenville because we thought that would be a place the students, faculty and citizens of this beautiful little town would visit almost daily, a place they would see this reminder that our freedom is not without a price, and sometimes it's borne by the sons and daughters of people from small towns like this. We are hoping they respect this site for what it is -- not a political statement, not a pro or con on anything -- just a remembrance of SPC Winkleman and what he did for us.

I want to thank the Superintendent of the Loudenville Schools, Mr. John Miller. I have known John for a long time and appreciate his assistance.

It was good that Barney (a retired CSM), Bob (a retired 1SG) and his wife, Polly, Jim (still serving as a 1SG), Wink (still serving as an OPNS SGM), and my wife Pam and I were able to get together to do this. Afterward, we all sat around a table at the local diner, had lunch and told old stories (some we've told before I'm sure) and just maybe brought some laughs to what was otherwise a dreary but proud day.

The way I figure it, this tree will last about 45-50 years or so, telling its story to those who will listen. What better place than a school to put this reminder of this Damon's life and this testament to his courage and compassion. I hope the tree grows strong and turns that brilliant shade of redish-orange in the fall that Damon liked. If you look at it right now, shivering in its new home, complete with its remaining 3 leaves, it looks like it has a ways to go. But I'm sure it will do just fine.

Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations, that we have forgotten, as a people, the cost of a free and undivided Republic. (John A. Logan)

Hooah

This was a tough one...

I have been putting off writing this because it's still close.

When I got home from the golf tournament, Pam told me I had to call Wink... he had just called to tell us that his youngest son, Damon, had been killed in Afghanistan. My God, I know how this hit me -- I can't even begin to know how he and his wife, Pat, were taking it. How is one supposed to feel when he loses a son. I have known this family for a very long time and served with Wink (SGM Winkleman) for probably 20 some years. I know military families have faced this for centuries, but it always rips you up when it's this close. All Soldiers think they're Superman, 7-ft. tall and bullet proof, and old Soldiers, especially, think if anything ever does happen, it will happen to them and not the younger guys.

SPC Winkleman was a medic with a unit of the 82d ABN and was responding to a call for help from a unit that was under fire. The vehicle he was riding in turned over, killing him and another Soldier and seriously injuring the other two in the vehicle. According to reports from those who were there, this roll-over stopped the rest of the convoy and they subsequently came under fire. When they were able to get back to their vehicles, they discovered the rest of the road in front of them was mined. If their vehicle had not overturned, perhaps the entire convoy would have been lost.

When the military got the body back to Ohio that Tuesday, the route the motorcade took to their hometown was lined with people with flags, cars pulled over and people standing beside the road. When they got back to the town, I was told everyone in the town came out to line the streets, including all the young people in the schools. The funny thing is, I think aside from paying their respects, every one of those people really knew Damon. He was a good kid, a normal kid, the kind of young man small-town America grows and is proud of -- the kind who answers the call and says "Send Me."

I've been sitting here for a while with my fingers on the keyboard, not knowing what else to say...what else I can say. I know... I believe... Damon is in a much better place right now, but I also know Wink and Pat, his brothers Jason and Nathan, their families, and the people of their community are all still hurting. They say time will heal this, and their faith will get them through it, but I don't know if I would be as strong.

SPC Damon G. Winkleman

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. (Kahlil Gibran)

Hooah