family
In supporting their uniformed relative, army families embody the utmost contribution and commitment to their fellow countrymen.
Papaw, the Devil Dog
My paternal grandfather, Linton Carl Fendley, was a giant of a man in my eyes - a lovable, affable, fun-loving giant. Papaw was usually the life of the party at family gatherings with his self-deprecating humor: “I have ears like open cab doors,” and his full gauge electric train, which occupied much of the basement. Going to visit Mamaw and Papaw was always an adventure. We counted on Papaw to provide fun and laughter, and even a mold for lead toy soldiers, which he and I used to crank out miniature fighting menk during visits. (This was the 50s. We didn’t know about lead poisoning back then.) Mamaw, on the other hand, was a gray horse of a different color. OCD to the max, melancholy, she was given to sitting in front of the radio listening to Billy Graham hour after hour. We kids learned very quickly to sit carefully on Mamaw’s plastic covered furniture, and to walk deftly on the plastic runner protecting the carpet. Serious consequences awaited if we happened to step off the plastic runners.
By Ken Fendley6 years ago in Serve
A Soldier's Soft Spot
“Wake up! Get up! It’s time to put your feet on the ground.” yelled Alana’s father as his heavy feet took turns walking down the hallway. Five am was his regular routine and one he never, would never, deviate from. But in the last room on the right was Alana on the phone with her best friend, totally wanting to deviate from anything her dad tried to make her do.
By Tralandice Hogan6 years ago in Serve
Parade Field
I’m standing at parade rest on the 25th Infantry Division parade field. I’m one of about 5,000 participants in the Operation Enduring Freedom-5 Farewell Ceremony. Somewhere out there in that huge, colorful group of civilians is my family, looking for me in the sea of desert camouflage on the field. The brilliant sunlight bathes us in heat and light. I smell freshly mown grass and my own sweat. Wispy clouds brush the tops of coconut palms as they pass overhead in their own good time. My toes are numb. The Division Commander, Major General Olson, speaks at a wooden podium adorned with the green tarot leaf and lightning bolt—aka the “electric chili pepper”—that represents the “Tropic Lightning” Division. He’s mercifully brief.
By Steven Thomas Howell6 years ago in Serve
A Veteran's Story
A Veteran’s Story by Laurel Richards Today is September 11th – 09/11th in the military world evokes so many painful memories. It was the day when so many innocent people died in New York, Pennsylvania and Virginia. A day like no other in history when Islamic martyrs decided that they would meet 100 virgins by becoming suicide bombers.
By Laura Ibanez6 years ago in Serve
Fortuitous serendipity
Introduction My most important possession is a little black notebook my wife got me for my birthday. Yet in order to explain why it's so important you first have to know a few things about me. My name is Marcus Stones, I am a 30-year-old veteran who just found out he has ADHD. Although I've never been formally diagnosed, with the benefit of hindsight I now realize how it's been a defining part of my life. As a child I thought I was simply prone to procrastination, You see, I grew up poor and black in the American south. My entire life I've struggled with depression and anxiety. My father was never in the picture and I learned early that bringing such issues to my mom would simply result in her attempting to pray my struggles away. I have nothing against prayer but praying never helped my brain learn to function in a world not built for me. I can often be quite forgetful and thus keeping a list of goals, tasks and general thoughts can be so crucial to my everyday life.
By Martin Stones6 years ago in Serve
The Soldier's Final Mission
Cigarette smoke and rum, horses and sweat – the familiar smells of race-day. To Thomas Buchannan, the all-encompassing rumble of the crowd seems louder than it would have been before the war, as if to overcome the absence of lost comrades. An occasional voice rises above – equally unintelligible. The colours of the women’s dresses are vivid in defiance of the Austerity. His own standard issue de-mob suit is easily lost in the chaos. Thin waists, bony legs with pen lines up the back, since black-market stockings are such a luxury. It’s not right. He scratches at the scarred skin around his missing eye. Women need meat on their bones.
By Samantha Monaco6 years ago in Serve
Peace
Five days. Nicholas had five days to finish his college entry essay. He was normally not a procrastinator, but lately he couldn’t find motivation. “Write about a transformational moment in your life.” The question loomed over him like a dark shadow he couldn’t shake. He mulled over instances in his life, but none seemed to spark enough interest or evoke a feeling of certainty. Anxiety was his new best friend. Nicholas had been staring at the blank computer screen for at least 15 minutes before his mom walked in.
By Jacqueline Berger6 years ago in Serve
My Transition from the Army Part 2
Ok so…I left off with the movers, right? I will skip this part of the transition since most of us have moved at some point and know the stress, the damages, and the moving company not taking responsibility for said damages they unintentionally caused. Here is where the real issues started for me.
By Brian Pehrson6 years ago in Serve
The Umpire
My father, Robert Edmundo Perez, of Mexicali, Baja California, Mexico, son of Edmundo Perez, of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, has come a long way. He wasn’t born under a full moon or surrounded by a large group in celebration of his arrival, but he was brought into this life with genuine love. Love. It seems like a very simple concept that exists in life. Love encompasses many things. A will. A goal. A choice. A desire. Ganas.
By Paul Perez6 years ago in Serve
