{"id":1435,"date":"2024-05-18T11:39:56","date_gmt":"2024-05-18T18:39:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/187thahc.net\/wp\/?p=1435"},"modified":"2024-09-13T14:38:32","modified_gmt":"2024-09-13T21:38:32","slug":"tribute","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/187thahc.net\/?p=1435","title":{"rendered":"Tribute"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This poem, penned by my wife Ginger, was attached to a beautiful wreath and sent FED -EX overnight to my hotel in Nashville (reunion 99).\u00a0 It was occasioned by a terrible fight we had over an idea I had to read from a book, Circa 1940, called; “An RAF Airman’s letter to his mother.”\u00a0 I found this three page book in the\u00a0estate of a B-24 gunner during WW II.\u00a0 It was one of those ‘If I die or turn up missing’ letters. \u00a0 Exceptionally moving.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Ginger in her anger, or in fear, accused me of being morbid; why couldn’t I think “happy thoughts.”\u00a0 My PTSD went from 0 to 100 in a nanosecond.\u00a0 I refused to talk to her all that night and was dead silent on the ride to the airport.\u00a0 On the morning of the 1st before the 187th Mini, the wreath, and this poem, arrived at my hotel door…… It caused me to burst into tears. \u00a0 She has a hard time understanding why I don’t complain about ordinary things like herself or others.\u00a0 This poem reflects her new awareness. \u00a0She finds me where I live, accepting me for who, and what I am.\u00a0 She amazes me……

Frenchy<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n\n\n\n
\n

Tribute<\/u><\/span><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

To those who
fought
and died for us
Who gave us life-
We think of them
and don’t
complain<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

To those who
lived
to tell their stories
Who gave us sight-
We think of them
and don’t
complain<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0Virginia A. Gibeault 6\/30\/99<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n

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