Thank you for your service.

Happy Veterans Day to all our THF veterans. Salute

Thank you for your service, sacrifice, and commitment!

Thank you Veterans for your service and our Freedom!

Dad in full jump gear. 82nd Airborne

Thanks for the service to this Great Nation, brothers.
And RIP to those gone including my grandfather, father, and a brother.
Hope all have a Happy Veterans Day.

EOD Marine right there. Semper Fi

THANK YOU, VETERANS,!!!!

Thank you vets!

My dad (on the right) was a Navy corpsman during the Korean War. This is him on the U.S.S. Okanogan (APA-220) on the way to Korea.

I am flattered that you liked two of my pictures enough that you saved them and used them for this post I took those when I was in Maryland in March and April of 2012 ?





Some other pics from my trip to DC

Please accept my apology Stub. I had forgotten where some of these came from. I save pictures I like and there are some good one in the Veterans Day group I have. So, you did some great photo work. My picture folders have gotten a little disorganized and I need to clean them up. Tell me which ones and I will not use them again. And thank your son for his service from all of us.

Buddy no apologies necessary!
I was actually very flattered that you liked the pictures enough to save them and use them in this post, it is all good

A post from the Internet:

What Military Wives are Made Of (Honor Our Vets)
It was just another harried Wednesday afternoon trip to the commissary (grocery store on military bases). My husband was off teaching young men to fly. My daughters were going about their daily activities knowing I would return to them at the appointed time, bearing, among other things, their favorite fruit snacks, frozen pizza, and all the little extras that never had to be written down on a grocery list. My grocery list, by the way, was in my 16-month-old daughter's mouth, and I was lamenting the fact that the next four aisles of needed items would wait while extracting the last of my list from my daughter's mouth, when I nearly ran over an old man.

This man clearly had no appreciation for the fact that I had 45 minutes left to finish the grocery shopping, pick up my 4-year old from tumbling class, and get to school, where my 12-year-old and her carpool mates would be waiting.

I knew men didn't belong in a commissary, and this old guy was no exception. He stood in front of the soap selection staring blankly, as if he'd never had to choose a bar of soap in his life. I was ready to bark an order at him when I realized there was a tear on his face.

Instantly, this grocery aisle roadblock transformed into a human..."Can I help you find something?" I asked. He hesitated, and then told me he was looking for soap.

"Any one in particular?" I continued.

"Well, I'm trying to find my wife's brand of soap." I started to loan him my cell phone to call her when he said, "She died a year ago, and I just want to smell her again."

Chills ran down my spine. I don't think the 22,000-pound Mother of all Bombs could have had the same impact. As tears welled up in my eyes, my half-eaten grocery list didn't seem so important. Neither did fruit snacks or frozen pizza.

I spent the remainder of my time in the commissary that day listening to a man tell the story of how important his wife was to him -- how she took care of their children while he served our country. A retired, decorated World War II pilot who flew missions to protect Americans still needed the protection of a woman who served him at home.

My life was forever changed that day. Every time my husband works too late or leaves before the crack of dawn, I try to remember the sense of importance I felt that day in the commissary.