Memorial Day

This day, the official start of summer (yes I know I'm doing this post a day late but I've been sick as a dog the past 48 hours so back the fuck off) and BBQ season means a lot more to me than most Americans. I had a Grandpa and 2 Great Uncles fight in WWII. My Grandpa fought in the Battle of the Bulge, in the winter of 1944-45, got shot twice (one thankfully bounced off his belt buckle, one got planted in his thigh), and had such severe frostbite that he had to be hospitalized in the UK for 3-6 months (my grandma's memory is fuzzy). Sadly he passed away of Alzheimers in July, 2005. I was "lucky" in the fact I was the only grandchild to see his last moments and let me tell you I will never forget the 1-2 minutes I had with him. I'd like to think he recogized me but being realistic he probably didn't. He passed a mere 5 hours after I got up there to see him.
Actually that story is worth telling, it was 2005 and I had just graduated high school. Unlike nearly all of my friends I didn't want a graduation party, it just wasn't me, so instead my "party" was a trip out east to see my aunt and uncle who lived just outside of DC. My uncle worked(s) at the DOT and they have 3 grown children. The plan (at least originally) was to go to DC for 3-4 days then head down to NC to see my cousin and his wife and kids.
The day we were going down we spent the day in DC (got a killer private tour of the capitol thanks to Jim Ramstead's office, I've always been good at political connections), we even sat in on a live house session for 10 minutes. We also visited the WWII memorial which had just FINALLY been completed the year before (easily 20+ years overdue but I digress). We were literally on the way down to see my cousin when my mom got a call from her sister finding out that her dad (my grandpa) was on a morphine drip which basically meant he had less than 24 hours to live. Was I pissed? You bet, at first. Then I thought about the fact that of all the times for gramps to pass he did it just when I happened to be just a 10 hour car drive from him. Concidence? Sorry I don't believe in those, it was meant to be and when everything was done I was glad I got to see him in his final hours. He also left me little hints in the days after that he was ok.
On to my great uncles who, sadly, I know very little about. My Great Uncle Byrl went up through Mussolini's Italy and into Rome as a Marine. He had a great story about the Catacombs there in Rome. He said that they were down there screwing around (like most normal 18-25 year old guys) and started messing around with the skulls down there. They put the skulls on a stick to scare the people coming down buy right as they did their flashlights went out. They took it off the stick and their flashlights went back on, they high-tailed it out of there in a hurry. And my Great Uncle Chuck was part of the Pacific campaign and he said he saw more people die from jungle rot or infection than in battle.
Those are my litle Memorial Day stories...