May 28, 2012 08:18
A little-known factoid about me: I tried to sign up for the Air Force when I was 18. I pretty much aced the ASVABs, and the recruiter really wanted me, but I was 20 lbs overweight. So I didn't eat for a week. Since I worked as a waitress at the time, that was a real challenge, but I dropped 10 lbs. Recruiter still said nope. Actually what he said was, If I send them someone outside the guidelines, they'll kill me.
The Army recruiter at the next desk said, Hey, we'll take you, no problem. If I remember correctly, my extremely hungry and disgruntled response was something along the lines of, Thanks anyway, I'm a wonk, not a grunt.
Friends congratulated me on not getting recruited. And me, I got on with trying to figure out my life. Still. There's this sore bit in my conscience. My brother served (Army, no combat.) My father served in Korea (according to my mother.) My mother says she was Navy. My Uncle Jack? Navy, in Vietnam. Two of my grandfathers were Merchant Marines during WWII, and if you don't know about that, google is your friend.
People, men and women, serve. Most survive and get on with their lives. Some die while in uniform. Memorial Day isn't the only day to remember this, but it's a good day to remember.