Thanks Veterans!

[wrpgator]

To Chatter veterans and their families everywhere...thank you for your service!

 

[Ironhead]

Thanks to all my fellow veterans.
We are the 1%.
Sometimes, I feel as though I don't deserve any "thanks" or accolades for my time in the Navy.
I never saw real combat, my life was really not in jeopardy. Several run ins with Russians while chasing subs all the way up into the Black Sea, but never any kind of real danger. An "expeditionary" medal, from Beirut. Again, no real danger.

Special place and a different level of gratitude from me to those of you that were in combat situations. Things you never talk about.
I've tried to coax some of that out of my three uncles, all served in Viet Nam. Or my two son in laws who were in Afghanistan's Helmand Province.
One is in Gaza right now as a contractor.

Thank you.

 

[Durty South Swamp]

I usually spend the day watching WW2 documentaries. And standing in line at the Golden Corral

 

[gatormandan]

I feel alot like Ironhead on this subject.

 

[Spurdog98]

Iron I agree, other than the little dust of with Libya and the line of death deal, my life was never in any real danger except for that one time up in the gut in Palma.

 

[Detroitgator]

I feel alot like Ironhead on this subject.

To both of you... "don't"

We were all WILLING... that's all that matters.

 

[AuggieDosta]

To both of you... "don't"

We were all WILLING... that's all that matters.

 

[Detroitgator]

Yeah, I only signed up for the GI Bill, a $6K bonus, and because I realized I needed to go figure schit out and unfuk myself... no one told me we might have to invade Wisconsin!!!

 

[MarylandGator]

 

[fischerwood]

Seems like yesterday our first cruise up to NYC past Lady Liberty, or into Gitmo on shakedown, or up the St. Lawrence for the 4th of July on a Middie Cruise. Can still see the glint of the Cuban scopes overlooking the base...hope they were just binoculars...recovering Grissom & Glenn were memories I'll never forget. Thanks to you who were in harms way...that is all...carry on

 

[wrpgator]

This is a good time to post coach Gene Ellison's letter to the Gator football team, from Norm Carlson's 2004 article.

Here is the letter each player received the day before the Texas A&M game in l962:

Dear _____ :

It's late at night. The offices are all quiet and everyone has finally gone home. Once again my thoughts turn to you all.

The reason I feel I have something to say to you is because what need now more than anything else are a little guidance and maybe a little starch for your backbone. You are still youngsters and unknowingly, you have not steeled yourselves for the demanding task of 60 full minutes of exertion required to master a determined opponent. This sort of exertion takes two kinds of hardness. Physical, which is why you are pushed hard in practice-and mental, which comes only from having to meet adversity and whipping it.

Now all of us have adversity-different kinds maybe-but adversity. Just how we meet these troubles determines how solid a foundation we are building our life on; and just how many of you stand together to face our team adversity will determine how solid a foundation our team has built for the rest of the season.

No one cruises along without problems. It isn't easy to earn your way through college on football scholarship. It isn't easy to do what is expected of you by the academic and the athletic. It isn't easy to remain fighting when others are curling around you or when your opponent seems to be getting stronger while you seem to be getting weaker. It isn't easy to continue good work when others don't appreciate what you're doing. It isn't easy to go hard when bedeviled by aches, pains and muscle sprains. It isn't easy to rise up when you are down. The pure facts of life are that nothing is easy. You only get what you earn and there isn't such a thing as "something for nothing." When you truly realize this-then and only then will you begin to whip your adversities.

If you'll bear with a little story, I'll try to prove my point. One midnight, January 14, l945, six pitiful American soldiers were hanging onto a small piece of high ground in a forest somewhere near Bastone, Belgium. This high ground had been the objective of an attack launched by 1,000 men that morning. Only these six made it. The others had been turned back, wounded, lost or killed in action. These grimy, cruddy six men were all that were left of a magnificent thrust of 1,000 men. They hadn't had any sleep other than catnaps for over 72 hours. The weather was cold enough to freeze the water in their canteens. They had no entrenching tools, no radio, no food-only ammunition and adversity. Twice a good-sized counter attack had been launched by the enemy, only to be beaten back because of the dark and some pretty fair grenade heaving.

The rest of the time there were incessant mortars falling in the general area and the trees made for dreaded tree bursts, which scatter shrapnel like buckshot. The attackers were beginning to sense the location of the six defenders. Then things began to happen. First, a sergeant had a chunk of shrapnel tear into his hip. Then a corporal went into shock and started sobbing.

After more than six hours of the constant mortar barrage and two close counter attacks, and no food since maybe the day before yesterday, this was some first-class adversity. Then another counter attack, this one making it to the small position. Hand-to-hand fighting is a routine military expression. I have not the imagination to tell you what this is really like. A man standing up to fight with a shattered hip bone, saliva frothing at his mouth, gouging, lashing with a bayonet, even strangling with his bare hands. The lonesome five fought (the corporal was out of his mind) until the attackers quit.

Then the mortars began again. All this time the route to the rear lay open, but never did this little group take the road back. As early dawn a full company of airborne troopers relieved this tiny force. It still wasn't quite light yet. One of the group, a lieutenant, picked up the sergeant with the broken hip and carried him like a baby. The other led the incoherent corporal like a dog on a leash. The other two of the gallant six lay dead in the snow. It took hours for this strange little group to get back to where they had started from 24 hours earlier. They were like ghosts returning. The lieutenant and one remaining healthy sergeant, after 10 hours of sleep and a hot meal, were sent on a mission 12 miles behind the German lines and helped make the link that closed the Bulge.

Today, two of the faithful six lay in Belgium graves, one is a career army man, and one is a permanent resident of the army hospital for the insane in Texas, one is a stiff-legged repairman in Ohio, and one is an assistant football coach at the University of Florida.

This story is no documentary or self-indulgence. It was told to you only to show you that whatever you find adverse now, others before you have had as bad or worse and still hung on to do the job. Many of you are made of exactly the same stuff as the six men in the story, yet you haven't pooled your collective guts to present a united fight for a full 60 minutes. Your egos are a little shook-so what? Nothing good can come from moping about it. Cheer up and stand up. Fight an honest fight, square off in front of your particular adversity and whip it. You'll be a better man for it, and the next adversity won't be so tough. Breaking training now is complete failure to meet your problems. Quitting the first time is the hardest-it gets easier the second time and so forth.

I'd like to see a glint in your eye Saturday about 2 p.m. with some real depth to it-not just a little lip service-not just a couple of weak hurrahs and down the drain again, but some real steel-some real backbone and 60 full fighting minutes. Then and only then will you be on the road to becoming a real man. The kind you like to see when you shave every morning.

As in most letters, I'd like to close by wishing you well and leave you with this one thought. "Self-pity is a roommate with cowardice." Stay away from feeling sorry for yourself. The wins and losses aren't nearly as important as what kind of man you become. I hope I've given you something to think about-and remember, somebody up there still loves you.

Sincerely,
Gene Ellenson
---

Norm Carlson Looks Back.. - Gene Ellenson's Letter - Florida Gators

This is written for the countless players, fans, fellow coaches and friends of Coach Gene Ellenson, the master motivator and defensive coordinator for Florid...

floridagators.com

 

[wrpgator]

I usually spend the day watching WW2 documentaries. And standing in line at the Golden Corral

Not documentaries but movies today on TCM:
Mister Roberts
The Dirty Dozen (thumbs down on that one this day--head over to Golden Corral during this one)
Sergeant York (thumbs up)
The Best Years of Our Lives (Two thumbs up!--one of my favorite movies of all time)
Battle Hymn (haven't seen it)

 

[Durty South Swamp]

There was only one time I was in true mortal danger overseas. But fortunately the STD test came back negative.

 

[AuggieDosta]

This is a good time to post coach Gene Ellison's letter to the Gator football team, from Norm Carlson's 2004 article.

Here is the letter each player received the day before the Texas A&M game in l962:

Dear _____ :

It's late at night. The offices are all quiet and everyone has finally gone home. Once again my thoughts turn to you all.

Sincerely,
Gene Ellenson
---

Norm Carlson Looks Back.. - Gene Ellenson's Letter - Florida Gators

This is written for the countless players, fans, fellow coaches and friends of Coach Gene Ellenson, the master motivator and defensive coordinator for Florid...

floridagators.com

That was phenomenal. Thanks for sharon.


BTW, the Gators won that game 28-13 or 42-6 depending on the dumbass Google search.
But, from the linked article... "The Gators must have read Ellenson's letter over and over. They beat Texas A&M 42-7, handed unbeaten, fifth-ranked Auburn it's first loss of the season the following week, 22-3, and went on to defeat a great Penn State team, winners of the Lambert Trophy as champions of the east, 17-7 in the Gator Bowl game."

 

[Detroitgator]

Not documentaries but movies today on TCM:
Mister Roberts
The Dirty Dozen (thumbs down on that one this day--head over to Golden Corral during this one)
Sergeant York (thumbs up)
The Best Years of Our Lives (Two thumbs up!--one of my favorite movies of all time)
Battle Hymn (haven't seen it)

#metoo... and much like music by the likes of Simon & Garfunkel, I have passed TBYoOL's on to the next generation. Both Son #2 and Daughter loved it.

 

[fischerwood]

Not documentaries but movies today on TCM:
Mister Roberts
The Dirty Dozen (thumbs down on that one this day--head over to Golden Corral during this one)
Sergeant York (thumbs up)
The Best Years of Our Lives (Two thumbs up!--one of my favorite movies of all time)
Battle Hymn (haven't seen it)

"Fury" always gets to me

 

[fischerwood]

There was only one time I was in true mortal danger overseas. But fortunately the STD test came back negative.

So that's what that drip was....

 

[Bushmaster]

I was only on the receiving end of fire one time, on Range 63 at Fort Bragg, and let me tell you there is no such thing as "friendly fire". A BFV (that thing in my profile picture) had finished bore sighting while I was down range changing out targets and the gunner and TC decided to go ahead with a "test fire" on the target I had just finished changing out.

I usually tell people "you were worth it" when getting thanked for my service. I find as I get older, fewer people were worth. Honestly, I would do it again but differently this time.

 

[Swamp Donkey]

 

[Gator98MD]

Mandatory service like Israel is what we need in this country. Too many spoiled brats rising and sleeping under the blanket of the very freedom that you provide and then questions the manner in which you provide it. Colonel Jessup knew what was up.