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Letter: Memorial Day's an occasion when he can't help but remember

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TO THE EDITOR: As I read and reminisce over the years of Memorial Days I've lived, I can't help but remember.

Remember when my brother Alan came home from the Korean War. My young sisters and brothers didn't know who he was.

I remember when my brother Pat was drafted to serve in Vietnam. The day he left for Vietnam, my mother cried all day. We younger kids didn't know why. My mother wrote to Pat every day for the two years he served.

I remember when in high school, males had two choices: go to college or get drafted. I felt with two brothers serving, it would be chicken to go to college just to get out of the draft. A lot of my classmates did that and they thought I was just stupid for not doing the same.

I remember being at my sister Rosie's house for New Year's Eve. My brother-in-law Chuck, 80-year-old Lawrence Larsen and I were having a couple of beers. As we were visiting, tears started to fall from Lawrence's eyes. We asked if something was wrong and Lawrence replied, "No."

As we continued our conversation, tears fell again and Lawrence said, "If I only would not have fixed the trucks." Lawrence began to apologize for tearing up and blurting out about the trucks. Chuck and I were at a loss.

Come to find out, it was the 50th anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge. Lawrence was having flashbacks. He was a mechanic at the battle. He had to keep the trucks running to haul the dead GIs from the front lines. For 50 years, he lived with the thought of "If I only would not have fixed the trucks, those GIs would be alive."

Think, thank and remember.

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