This past Saturday was officially National Museum Day, sponsored by the Smithsonian. Tickets to many museums across the country were made available for free, and Diana took advantage of the offer and downloaded tickets for us to the National World War I Museum. The museum is local, and we've been there before. Not recently, however, so we
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I knew it had been a terrible war, the technology had suddenly risen up and therefore the war machines and methods were much more brutal. and a lot of the manpower thrust upon the battlefield was totally inadequate to fact that technology.
At several points, I just had to sit down and cry. the loss of young lives was overwhelming and right in your face with the stories and images and etc. Roger got a bit worried but I let him know I am easily moved to tears and this was the place to do it.
My beloved grandfather John Frazier was one of those Doughboys, but he Never Ever talked about his service. On one hand, he was likely American Indian, Indian/white or maybe even a bit of a lot of minority / majority mix, and not allowed to do any thing but menial jobs (he was a barber by profession but I don't know when he started that trade);.
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The WWI Museum is very much that kind of place. Diana and I know each other well enough that it's okay to break away sometimes. We see some stuff together, but if I want to linger at the aviation displays, she can drift on to the things that interest her more.
Every now and then, I think that an organized tour with a tour guide would be cool, particularly now that I can hear again. But then, I dismiss the idea. It's rather like sobering up. I couldn't have spent nearly the time in the isolation booth had I been with even a small group.
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