... {edited}
And not all they had to do there was something they could take pride in later.
My grandfather was a trench soldier in the US Army on several fronts in Europe in "The Great War." Even forty years later, when I was a kid, he would not talk about his time overseas during the war.
We had a few pictures, a German bayonet that he had taken, a primitive Luger, his uniform and unit insignia, a weird flag that he had saved and some letters from him that were delivered about ten years later to my grandmother, well after the war had finished.
I was sixteen when he went and he never talked about the war to any of us as far as I know. He was a strong man and he protected his family (and his country), quietly and to himself, from the horrors he had endured.
I attended his "Full Military with Honors" funeral when he died. There were over one hundred soldiers from that war and more than two hundred from WWII.
I was fine with all the honors and even the twenty one gun salute to his honor but I broke down when they played Taps.
That was just too much for me as a teen. I kind of teared up again when they presented the flag that had covered his coffin to my grandmother.
The Honor Guard had taken up position around the grave site and were to stand at attention until all the family had left.
It was amazing how they honored him and he was generally a "grunt," (he only ascended to the rank of corporal during the war) NOT a decorated officer or anything.
I am kind of tearing up now.
... forty three years after ...
