Beech Tree News Network

When you see this, Memorial Day will have come and gone.  I trust, though, those we memorialize will long be remembered. 
    Again permit me some thoughts and recollections about this day- once called “declaration day”:  This because fable visited the graves of loved- ones and placed flowers, and still do.
    On this day we not only honor the dead, but the living.  Certainly those who went to war for our country we especially pay homage to- and to those who paid with their lives.  Too we would not forget those who sustained lifetime injurie4s- our disabled American Veterans.
    Concerning War:  Someone said “Confusion is the first weed to grow on the field of combat.” Movie actor, Jimmy Stuart, war a bomber pilot and squadron commander with the U.S.  Eighth Air Force in World War Two.  Colonel Stuart said this biggest fear was not the sir combat, but that he would make a mistake and get somebody killed, particularly when he joined his squadron up in formation after take-off. 
    Admiral/lusbrand Kimmel, Commander U.S. Navy, Pacific Fleet, was preparing to go play golf when the first Japanese bomber began to fall on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941.  This, because the messages to him out of Washington, D.C, were confusing and uncertain about the impending Japanese raids (it was reported that one bomb hit close to Admiral Kimmel.)
    This cost Kimmel his command, as well as his naval career.  Later that day, it is said, he tore his admiral stars from his collar-realizing his career was over; it was.  Admiral Kimmel, by the way, was from Henderson, Kentucky.
    The same happened to General Walter Short, commander of the Army garrison on Pearl not all confusing war stories end badly.  This one, an account of a young medic (medical corpsman), who was only temporarily searching his head. 
     A G.I. called for a medic after his buddy had been hit.  The medic crawled to the foxhole of the two men.  One war bent over clutching his pride- in severe pain.  On examination there was no blood; there wasn’t a visible scratch on the man.
    The medic did discern the soldier had a high fever and had been vomiting profusely.  Then a light bulb flashed in the medic’s head.  He thanked God for his training- the man had acute appendicitis.  But, what to do? They were under a fierce barrage of German artillery fire; the guy could not be evacuated.  That appendix needed to come out or the man could die if it burst.  “Somehow I’ve got to operate”, the medic said, “But how?”  Medics carried nearly everything in their medical bag but staples.  They weren’t experts to do surgery.  They weren’t beyond first aid.   
    God smiled- down that day on Willard Wright, the patient.  The foxhole buddy found a single-edged razor blade in this pack.  The medic had plenty of morphine; he operated.  He’d guessed correctly.  The organ was bloated and ready to burst.  After putting a large wound-bandage over the patients incisions; the artillery attach lifted they got him back to an aid station.
    Willard Wright survived the war; came home and married his sweetheart.  Her name was Ted Edwards.  Both were my neighbors growing-up at New Cyprer.  Willard was a big guy.  Ted was plump.
    I remember well.  I was twelve, as World War Two ended. The real hero’s name was never known- the young medic.  He would have probably said that he was only doing his job.

Kindest regards….