Memorial Day,
hundreds of flags fill the square,
vet proudly posing
Memorial Day, national day of remembrance. All of my uncles served in the military during World War II. My father, a chemist, was considered too valuable to draft, so he stayed home and worked for the government on a secret project. My Uncle Harry went into the Air Force and qualified to be a pilot or a navigator. After pilot training, he opted for navigator training, which would take another six months and allow him more time with his new bride. His plane was shot down over Italy. They landed unharmed near a village, not knowing what their reception might be, but were welcomed as liberators. My uncle, not used to drinking wine, got drunk and fell into the water trough. Uncle Harry could have passed for Clark Gable and we kids idolized him as a dashing, romantic hero. Fortunately, all of my uncles came back alive and in one piece, though none of them would ever talk about painful memories of the war.
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