|My parents before they were parents.|
I would be remiss as a daughter if I let the Marine Corps. birthday go by without a mention.
I already feel remiss as I couldn't even find a good picture of my father in his uniform when Bridget asked for it this afternoon. I think I have some - somewhere here. I have promised to dig out his Marine 'yearbooks' from WWII for the family. I find it jarring to see my father, as a teen Marine, in the South Pacific. I'm well into my middle-years, have lost both of my parents, and still have that childish difficulty of seeing my parents as anything but middle-aged authority figures.
As far as the Marine thing goes...I am still in awe of a man who dropped out of high school to join the Marines at the age of 17. Daddy didn't talk about the realities of the war much - we didn't see the disturbing pictures he had until we were cleaning out his things after his death. Mostly he talked about Marine discipline, dedication, and a bit about trying to bounce a quarter off of our well made beds. (never very successful; he certainly wouldn't be very proud of my skills today!) But the Marine was always there in the background - once a Marine, always a Marine - not just in the dog tag on Dad's key ring or the woolen Marine Corps blanket we sat on when lying on the grass staring up at the stars. It was part of his character; and helped to form our characters, too.