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Robert was a sailor aboard the USS Bunker Hill during WWII, and was killed during a kamikaze attack. He was an uncle I never met. I was named after him, and wear that name proudly.
Ruth was the wife of the founder of a company I worked for from 1979 until 1985. She lost her eldest son in Vietnam, yet still allowed me the privilege of calling her "Mom" when she'd visit the plant. A woman of grace and grit who made sure the company never forgot that the people who worked there were as important as those who ran it. She never let her loss keep her from being the kind, generous person that she was.
George was an infantry truck driver in WWI, who at the crossing of the Rhine, lost his hearing to a shell exploding near him. He never bragged, or even talked much about it when I was young, but in my 30's there was a WWII film on the history channel, and he told me "this is where I was during the war." It was the Rhine crossing. Up until then, when asked he simply would say, "Oh nothing much." The largest paratroop operation in the history of war was nothing much to him. Just his duty as he saw it. George is my father. I love you Dad.
So for Robert, Ruth, George, and all those who served and continue to serve, you are not forgotten.
:patriot: :loveya:
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