What Veterans Day Means to Me | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Veterans of our military, whether or not they have fought in foreign wars, all pay a price to give of themselves to this great level of commitment. During his years of service, my son lost the majority of his ability to hear, which is quite a sacrifice for his country since he is a fine amateur musician. Because of his sacrifice in World War II, my father lost his innocence in large chunks, forever scarring his spirit.

    Robert Earle Deatherage was raised a Southern Baptist Christian, from Fuquay Springs (Wake County), North Carolina, to love God, his Mamma, and his country. His love for the preservation of his country, like so many fellow men of his generation, cut deeply into his spirit. There is no way for those of us that have never fought and killed our fellow man for the betterment of an objective, or, moreover, to preserve one's own survival, to ever fathom such.

    When I was very young, I used to ask my father: Did you kill anybody in the war? His answer was always "I don't think so", and on other issues, he just would not talk much about the war until he got much older. As I got older and learned about the history of World War II, I realized that my father was not being completely honest with me. I just suppose it was something that he could not, or wanted not to discuss with his young son, and as I grew older, I respected that.

    In the Battle of the Philippines, the largest battle in the Pacific Theater, The casualties were huge for the Japanese: over 336,000 Nippon troops killed by Americans, and what few allies that participated in that battle, with America and those allies losing less than 14,000 troops.

    In the Battle of Okinawa, 110,071 Imperial Japanese soldiers were killed and 14,009 Americans lost their lives.

    For Bob Deatherage to be promoted from buck private to Staff Sergeant in little over a year, one must conclude that Soldier Deatherage, as an infantryman, must have had to do his share of the killing. Looking at the numbers of the casualties of both sides of this conflict, as Americans did route these entrenched Japanese, the aforementioned KIA casualties denote a kill ratio (killed Americans contrasted against killed Japanese) of 1 to 16. That means for Bob Deatherage to do his part of the work, he would have, on average, to kill 16 Imperial soldiers.

    Also, factor in the inevitable Banzai charges of row after row of Japanese Soldiers charging, with bayonets fixed, Samurai swords ready for engagement, and you get the picture. These front line American infantrymen (the ones that survived) put their M1 Garands to good work, and they did their share of the killing. Plus, country boys, like my father, were pretty good shots (expert marksman), with the 30.06 Garand (extremely accurate in the right hands) a most efficient weapon.

    I suspect that my father suffered from an undiagnosed mild case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). As historians account, the Okinawa Battle was like Hell on Earth: entrenched, dug-in Imperial Soldiers impressing Okinawans into service, using large groups of the other 300,000 civilians on this 463 square mile mountainous island (about 1/2 the size of Beaufort County) as human shields. This was a terrible way to spend one's adolescence, and this island that is just south of the Japanese main island, which had long been Imperial soil where the Japanese did defend to the death, is where my father became a man in 1945, a very good man.

    There were signs of this condition, PTSD, which was first diagnosed for many veterans after the Vietnam War, but my father would never admit it, and I respect him for that. I just think, as Northern General William Tecumseh Sherman admitted, during his March to the Sea, "War is Hell" plain and simple, and Bob Deatherage adjusted the best he could.

    The American flag that draped my father's coffin when he passed in 2005 rests only a few feet from where I work for long hours. Everyday, I stop and gaze at that flag and ponder what my father did to earn that greatest measure of respect - to be prayed over and buried in a flag draped coffin. That flag, folded and enshrined in a simple frame in the shape of an isosceles triangle, represents both my father's lost innocence and his immense patriotism in equal measure. It is the price that many veterans pay to protect us, the fortunate masses ... and we are truly fortunate, well what many of us have the capacity to understand.

    The Hell of war is what our Veterans either know, or prepare to know, so the least we non veterans can do is: thank them, hire them, help them, and when appropriate, help them help themselves. We owe so much to veterans, least of which is our freedom, and greatest of which is our supreme sense of safety.

    From the relative safety of our free United States, let us show that we appreciate the ongoing efforts of our Veterans. Lord knows, they have earned it.
The veterans Day Ceremony, November 11, 2013, at Washington's Veterans Park: Above.     photo by Stan Deatherage    Click the image to expand.
    Publisher's note: These folks (in the image above), some veterans, were at Washington's Veterans Park to remember and thank our local veterans, and this is the purpose of this hallowed day; however, veterans should be acknowledged and given special consideration on all other days.

    To that extent, should anyone like to post their personal Veterans story, as I have, we will provide the proper space here in BCN.