Timing

Timing

Noel Lalfin

May 14, 2015

It’s amazing to realize now, but when I was a kid, I knew men who had served in the First World War.  Now, think about that for a moment as that conflict was already raging a hundred years ago.  And I actually interacted with some of those old fellows for years as my folks were active in the Disabled American Veterans (DAV) program.  These were men and women who met monthly, bringing their kids and grandkids to potlucks in the park, Christmas parties, and Memorial Day commemorations at local cemeteries each May. Some of the older folks still referred to the tradition as Decoration Day.  As kids, some of us would scamper to collect a brass shell casing or two as they were ejected from the rifles shot by veterans during the traditional gun salute at the old Anaheim, Santa Ana, and Fullerton cemeteries.

 

There were the younger guys who had served in Korea and slightly older men, like my dad, who were veterans of the Second World War.  Some were veterans of both wars. Viet Nam was not even on the radar at the time, but my brother would be there soon enough.

And sprinkled throughout the membership were those wonderful gray-haired grandfathers – some missing either an arm or a leg – who once wore the uniform of the American Doughboy and fought at Verdun.

I only wish that I had been older at the time as I now have so many questions that I should like to have asked of them.

 

But, they are all gone now.  The timing stinks.

 

Because aside from all of those unasked questions, I should also have liked to have thanked those gentlemen.

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There was a three gun salute during my father's graveside service at the old Fullerton cemetery some years ago.  He was ninety-one years old at the time of his passing.

The old World War Two veteran in charge of the elderly volunteers carefully bent down and collected the spent brass afterward. He presented them to my brother, sister, and me. One casing was set aside for my brother's son.  My nephew had shipped out to Iraq with the U.S. Army on the day his grandfather died.  

I remembered to thank the old veteran on his behalf.

I think I finally got the timing right this time.