Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Patriotism and Me




I have always felt that I was more patriotic because of the 23 years Ed served in the military and of the many sacrifices we made as a military family. This included two years when Ed was serving in Vietnam and I was a young mother in Utah. His two tours of Vietnam were very difficult, but each time he was gone, I gave birth to his children without him. We had no choice in our assignments; we were sent where the Army told us to go and we could not decline an assignment no matter how difficult it was, or quit our job if we decided we didn’t like it.

During our children’s early years we usually moved every two years; during one period of time it was more often and Athena was in the fifth grade before she attended a full year of school in the same class she started out the school year in. This was very hard as she was a child who needed stability and routine; losing this permanence because of moving made her dyslexia worse. After each move she’d write mirror-image after until she felt secure again.

 
Ed marching in military parade

As a member of an Army family, I have seen many instances that have made me feel patriotic. I have seen many military parades where my heart has swelled with pride in our fine soldiers. I have seen my Air Force flyovers when I realized how grateful I was for those proud aviators who trained and served in far off bases. I have seen scenes on television of armed forces fighting and dying on foreign soil. All of these remind me of the price our soldiers pay for our country. In Italy our country’s anthem played on Armed Forces Network Television when it first came on in the morning and the last thing at night. We were reminded constantly of our citizenship while we were living in a foreign country.

I recall the Independence Day Carnival at the Military Base in Italy when they opened the base to Italians and everyone came inside to enjoy a hometown 4th of July Party, with fireworks filling the sky at the end. 

I also recall times when I have seen individual incidences of respect for our country. I remember going to a movie theater on a military base in northern Italy, and as usual, the Star Spangled Banner played as the flag was displayed on the screen before the regular movie. Everyone in the theater stood and saluted or put their hand over their heart except a bunch of teenagers who were goofing off and being disrespectful. Ed went over to them and told them to stand up and be respectful to the flag, and those who were fighting for their freedom, and they shaped up. I remember how proud at that moment I was of my country, and my flag. The simple act of standing at attention while our national anthem played while we watched a movie on a military base reminded me of the freedoms I took for granted that our soldiers serving in that nation, far from family and friends, did not take for granted.

I remember another time while we were stationed on that Italian base. There were international tensions, and
Marc at school in Italy
our country dropped some bombs on Libya. Libya couldn’t bomb America, so instead they attacked some Italian islands they could reach. It was a tempest in a teapot, but some Italian politicians became angry against America. As civilians we knew nothing that morning, but as our teenage son walked through the Italian villaggio on the way to school, an old Italian man swore at him and spit on him. Our son didn’t know what was going on, but he recognized what it was—anti-American sentiment, something we ran into occasionally. He pulled out his cassette player, put on the music, “I’m Proud to Be an American” and continued to walk to school. Another time our eight-year-old daughter was called a “dirty American” and spit at outside church one Sunday, and for a while all students were bussed to school to prevent problems. There were anti-American protests outside the base so it was closed to all but Americans. Mormon missionaries were told to stop wearing their name tags and to stop proselyting temporarily because they were a
At church in Vicenza Italy
symbol of America. Eventually everything blew over and became normal again, but it reminded us how really free we are in America. I am grateful for those soldiers all over the world who live in places where it isn’t always easy to live as an American so the rest of us Americans can enjoy our freedoms.

 
I remember my first experience with the military when I first joined Ed at Ft. Wolters, Texas while he was going through flight school. I lived in a tiny apartment on the reactivated base and every morning I heard reveille play at 5:00 am. I couldn’t hear where it was coming from and at first I wondered if it was ghostly music from World War II when Ft. Wolters was for a time the largest infantry replacement training center in the United States. Eventually I realized my mistake, but it reminded me of all the soldiers who had passed through Ft. Wolters on their way to World War II, and were now on their way to Vietnam.  How many of these soldiers who passed through Ft. Wolters lived and how many died? How many who heard the same haunting sounds of that reveille as I did, then died during their army tours?

Many of the things I have mentioned have to do with the military—how they have fought to protect our freedoms. But I also remember the other side of patriotism—being a poll worker at the precinct on voting day in Texas, serving as a juror in Davis County, doing community service, studying the issues and candidates and voting. It is also strengthening the family and marriage in an ever-changing world by promoting The Family: A Proclamation to the World, fighting for the values I hold dear. A quote by James Bryce says it all, “Patriotism consists not in waving the flag, but in striving, that our country shall be righteous as well as strong.”

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