Families,
communities, and nations are strengthened when we show appreciation and honor
to those who so willingly stand between us and the enemy. They sacrifice so much: time with their spouses, children, parents
and siblings; lives of ease and relaxation; and some – far too many – give
their lives. The least we can do is show
appreciation and honor to them for their sacrifices.
I
always thank the soldiers, airmen, sailors, and marines when I see them, but I
feel so inadequate with my “thank you” when they are giving so much. The following story – which may be “only a
story” – illustrates several ways we can show appreciation to our
defenders. I am sure that many of my
readers have better ways to show appreciation than I, but I know that we can
never show these brave men and women too much appreciation and honor. We can strengthen our families, communities,
and nations by remembering and honoring the sacrifices made in our behalf.
I put my carry-on
in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. “I’m glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap,” I thought.
Just before take-off, a line of
soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally
surrounding me. I decided to start a
conversation. “Where are you headed?” I
asked the soldier seated nearest to me.
“Petawawa. We’ll be there for two weeks for special
training, and then we’re being deployed to Afghanistan.”
After flying for about an hour,
an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five
dollars. It would be several hours before
we reached the east, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time.
As I reached for my wallet, I
overheard a soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. “No, that seems like a lot of money for just
a sack lunch. Probably wouldn’t be worth
five bucks. I’ll wait till we get to
base.” His friend agreed.
I looked around at the other
soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed
the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill.
“Take a lunch to all those soldiers.”
She grabbed my arms and squeezed
tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she
thanked me. “My son was a soldier in
Iraq; it’s almost like you are doing it for him!”
Picking up ten sacks, she headed
up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated.
She stopped at my seat and asked, “Which do you like best – beef or
chicken?”
“Chicken,” I replied, wondering
why she asked.
She
turned and went to the front of the plane, returning a minute later with a
dinner plate from first class. “This is
your thanks.”
After
we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest
room. A man stopped me. “I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.” He handed me twenty-five dollars.
Soon
after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle,
looking at the aisle numbers as he walked.
I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the
numbers only on my side of the plane.
When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, and said,
“I want to shake your hand.” Quickly
unfastening my seatbelt I stood and took the Captain’s hand. With a booming voice, he said, “I was a
soldier, and I was a military pilot.
Once, someone bought me a lunch.
It was an act of kindness I never forgot.”
I
was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers. Later I walked to the front of the plane so I
could stretch my legs. A man who was
seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake
mine. He left another twenty-five in my
palm.
When
we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a
man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned and walked away
without saying a word. Another
twenty-five dollars!
Upon
entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the
base. I walked over to them and handed
them seventy-five dollars. “It will take
you some time to reach the base. It will
be about time for a sandwich. God Bless
You.”
Ten
young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow
travelers. As I walked briskly to my
car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our
country. I could only give them a couple
of meals. It seemed so little. A veteran is someone who, at one point in his
life, wrote a blank check made payable to “The United States of America” for an
amount of “up to and including my life.”
That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no
longer understand it.” (Author unknown)
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