Years ago, my dad’s youngest brother encouraged my grandmother to write her life’s story. Since then, he’s published several other books on our family, including some pictures that help tell the story.
There were eight kids in their family, six of them boys. When World War II came, several of the boys enlisted. This picture from 1943 shows the strain the family was under during those stressful years.
My uncles Charlie and Luther were already in the navy; they are on either end of the picture. My dad is second from the left; he would soon join the Air Force, as would his brother Sam, second from the right. The other boy in the picture, Coleman, would join the Navy upon graduating from high school the following year.
Sam was the only one of the boys that didn’t come home. On May 22, 1944, the family received a letter telling them that Sam’s plane had been shot down. A month later, they got official word that he had been killed.
The stress of having four sons in the military and the pain of having lost another took a terrible toll on my grandmother. The picture below was taken in 1946. Less than three years from the picture above, yet the physical change is dramatic. (Note that my grandmother was already using a cane in the above picture, she just didn’t have it with her when that picture was taken)
On this Memorial Day, let’s remember those who suffer during wartime, especially those who are left behind.
I have lots of questions about the wisdom of Christians participating in the military. Some of those I’ve voiced here in the Kitchen, others I haven’t.