Honoring My Favorite Marine

For the past couple of days, I've been listening to my dad talk about being a Marine and being in the war in Vietnam. My dad is very descriptive when he's telling a story and he and I share a good imagination.

Daddy was telling Tim and I about one particular situation where he (as squadron leader) was trying to get his men to take cover because the explosions were getting too close to them. He said they all just stood there with their mouths open when he yelled for them to do this. He then had to pick something up and act like he was going to hit them in order to get them to move to safety. Daddy said before long, everyone was hiding somewhere and then he realized he needed to find someplace for himself to go. In a panic, he began to look around for anywhere he could fit. He said one guy hollered "Hey, Taylor! There's room in here!". Daddy said there were 3 men in that fox hole and he had to get down in there the best he could on top of the men. He said he was still sticking out some but it was better than nothing. Things were exploding all around them and every one of them missed him. He said that was just one of the many, many times that he survived. He has said many times that the only reason he is still alive is because "I had a praying mommy back home". Daddy said that the whole time he was in Vietnam, he felt like he was in a big protective bubble. He says he remembers running through this area where things were being blown up all around him and people where being shot next to him and he wondered why he was being spared.

When dad was talking about trying to get into that fox hole and there being barely enough room for him, my imagination got the best of me. I was transported to that day and time and there I was in a tearful panic trying to shove my daddy into that hole so he wouldn't be blown up.

It angers me to hear stories of what happened when these guys came home from the war. There was no thanks or respect given to them. This happened before I was born, but I'm alive and well now and I want to say THANK YOU TO YOU ALL! YOU MATTER TO ME!

My dad risked his own life because your life mattered to him! If you're not thankful for that, then maybe you should spend some time out in the trenches trying to stay alive.

My dad is a brave man and I love and respect him for what he stands for and what he fought for. God spared my dad in the war because He has great plans for him and the people's lives he would touch later in life. God knew my dad would come to Him in the future and so God waited. He waited until the time was right to call my dad to Him. Now, my dad fights in a different kind of war. This is a war on his soul. My dad is a fighter and my dad knows how to win.

See you in heaven, daddy!