my salute

I grew up traveling around the world.    Before the age of 10, I had three countries that I had spent significant time in – three countries had been “home.”   And though I’ve spent more time in the US than either of the other two, I still don’t think I’d say that I have ever developed a patriotic spirit -  no offense intended to anyone.   I am highly respectful of any country I happen to be walking but patriotic?  no, not really.   

That being said, I did grow up hearing stories of the war and from the war.   Stories of children evacuated to the north of england from London.  Stories of “bevin boys” and of gas masks.  Stories that described the sound of the “doodlebugs” dropping out of the skies.    Stories of a German parachute hanging in the trees of Chatsworth Park one evening.   And stories of my great uncles fighting in battles like El Alamein in Africa.    In fact I new the stories of war so well that I remember the day the US bombed Afghanistan after 9-11, I went to an older gentleman at the church and asked: does this mean we’re going to get bombed now?   It was the only stories of war I knew.  

Today is veteran’s day.   I’ve never been to a veteran’s day parade before today on either side of the pond.    It was really moving.   I might even say I danced close to being “patriotic” for that half an hour.    I watched a handful of our community at church provide music and salute as they lead the veteran’s down Main St.    I cheered them on.   I gave them my salute as they passed.   What really got me though was watching the ROTC from the high schools dressed in uniform – some even dressed for combat.    What a sight, especially knowing a few of them.  

I know I’ve never been to one before.   I know I’m not particularly “patriotic.”  But I’m not sure I’ll miss another veteran’s day parade – I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to offer my nod and smile to those who have defined duty and service.