Sometimes we
remember.
Other
times, we need to be reminded.
That’s why a rusted MI917 Brodie
helmet is perched on the top of the piano by our back door. You can’t come in
or out without seeing George Washington Shirah Jr.’s World War I helmet.
With a name like that, you know
his 19th-century parents were patriots. And so was their teenage son,
who went to Europe to defend America’s freedoms. My wife’s granddaddy, George,
brought back his “doughboy” headgear. It’s a treasured family heirloom. The
Mitchell County farmer also brought back a pair of gas-poisoned lungs.
Our children—Alan, Emily and
Eric—never met their great-great-grandfather, who died at age 69 from emphysema,
courtesy of Germany’s warfare fumes. But they know of his courage to face death
to protect what’s precious to us, as we celebrate America’s 250th
birthday.
In addition to Granddaddy
George’s helmet, we have a file of family heroes from our nation’s “Greatest
Generation.” Here are six on that fighting-patriots roster:
Dink NeSmith Sr.
Fresh out of high school, he
enlisted in the U.S. Army and was shipped to the South Pacific. From the Philippines,
as a medical corpsman, he brought home stories that have been handed down through
the generations. Big Dink never talked about the death and gore. I always
believed his sense of humor helped him counter the nightmares of the jungle atrocities.
He hitchhiked home from the war to marry Margie Vines.
Lamar Shirah
When Japan bombed Pearl
Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, Lamar dropped the plow lines to his mules and hustled
to the enlistment office. As a tall and strong farm boy, he was perfect to be a
military policeman (MP). By coincidence, he served in the Philippines, too. As
an MP, he was the bodyguard and driver for a general. His unit was preparing to
invade Japan when the bombs were dropped. Instead, he got to come home and
trade his mules for a tractor.
Joe
Vines
We
called him Bubba, the oldest of Mother’s siblings. He survived a German torpedo
attack when his Navy ship was sunk in the North Sea. He lived to become an
educator and coach. There are stories of him buying shoes so that sharecroppers’
children could play basketball. One of them endowed two scholarships at Georgia
Southern University in his honor. But Uncle Bubba never knew. He and his wife
died in a 1963 Eastman motel-room fire. He and his brother, Billy, instilled my
passion for the outdoors.
James NeSmith
Uncle James was my dad’s
older brother. When the war broke out, he tried to enlist but was turned
away—too skinny. Family legend is that he purchased a stalk of bananas and ate
them all. When he returned to the recruiter’s office, he barely tipped the scales
in his favor. Uncle James served his country for 20 years in the Navy and
earned the highest noncommissioned rank of chief. He would have been proud to
see his grandson, James Jaehnig, serve America in the Navy for 20 years, too.
Lillie N. Corwin
Johnny NeSmith
Uncle Johnny was my dad’s younger
brother. Their mother died when he was barely school-age. The oldest, Aunt Sue,
became his de facto mother. He was a patriot, as well. The war against Germany
and Japan was winding down, but he enlisted, too. First the Army and then the
Navy. He was the first person whom I knew with a tattoo. Uncle Johnny had an
entrepreneurial itch. He employed me to sell parched peanuts at the stockyard. Our
special relationship lasted until he died too young at 63.
As a veteran, I am proud to come
from a lineage of veterans. Patriotism runs deep in our family, as noted by
George Washington Shirah Jr.’s rusty helmet. We are grateful, as our nation
celebrates its 250th birthday. It has taken courage and sacrifice to
give us this opportunity.
I
pray your family or ours will never forget why we are free to say and sing,
“Happy birthday, America!”
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com