The Price of War

My mother's favorite holiday was Christmas. But as much as she loved that holiday, my father hated the one we celebrate today, the Fourth of July. Not for what it stood for, of course. A World War II veteran, no one was more patriotic than my dad. He flew a flag in front of his house all year round. What he dreaded about the Fourth was the noise that accompanied it. All the firecrackers that seemed to plague their peaceful world for days before and after the designated day.

I thought for years that all the noise just made him nervous. Their little dog was jittery too, and there was fear of sparks landing on their roof, like they did one year. Besides, as a former law enforcement officer, it bothered him that city ordinances about safety were overlooked, and he couldn't abide anyone getting by with breaking the law.

But then one year my dad told me the main reason fireworks bothered him. He said he had heard plenty of noisy gunfire when he was in Japan right at the close of the war. I never thought of my father being in that much danger during the war, because his ship arrived right after the bombing of Hiroshima to help with reconstruction of the country. He had enlisted at the end of the war, when he was only fifteen (he didn't need a birth certificate for the Army, if his mother signed some papers). After some thought though, and reading more about the history of the times, I realize he was in quite a bit of danger there in Japan. We Americans were still the hated enemy for years following the destruction caused by the atom bomb.

So, now it makes more sense to me why my dad did not like firecrackers. And I'm sure that anyone who has been in a war-torn country feels the same. The noise and sparks represent war. I know they bring enjoyment for their beauty and are something to look forward to during a long, hot summer, but let's not forget what they represent. They represent the price that a few have had to pay for all of us to have the freedoms we have. The price of war. There's no glory in the trenches, even today. Let's remember.

my dad in Japan

Don't Be Stupid!

Some of you who know my husband might be interested in a story he tells about one Fourth of July in his youth, when he was drinking heavily and spending too much time in the bars. One Fourth of July when he was inebriated, he says he was lighting firecrackers with his cigarette and throwing them under people's chairs. Unfortunately, one of the times, he accidentally threw his cigarette under the chair and put the firecracker in his mouth!

I always laugh when he tells this story, but he said the people in the bar were not laughing when they saw how much he was hurt. It was not funny to be in that much pain. And when you're drunk and still feel pain, it surely was bad.

There must be a moral to this story, besides not mixing alcohol and firecrackers. But I can't really think of one. My daughter has a little saying she uses with her family when she tells them good-bye. She ends her good-bye with, "Don't be stupid." I hope none of my family or friends are being stupid tonight. It really won't be funny if you are hurt.