A Parade Follow-up

Okay, so it wasn’t a Wright Flyer.  But I was close.  Our 2013 City of Leavenworth Veterans Day Parade flyover was a biplane. You read that correctly.  A biplane. Have you ever seen a flyover by a biplane?  You could have read War and Peace in the time it took to fly across the parade route, and the city is only eight blocks wide.The rest of the parade went as expected, except for one pleasant surprise.

Our AHG troop stopped at the reviewing stand. We turned as a group and saluted the flag. Then the girls sang the first verse of “God Bless America.”  A large contingent of soldiers from Fort Leavenworth sat on the reviewing stand.  Every time an American flag passed the reviewing stand, the soldiers stood and saluted.    Since we stopped to sing, they remained standing, holding their salute.  There was one soldier in his dress blue uniform.  He was an E8 or E9.  I noticed that he was softly singing along with the girls.  He was the only soldier who joined in the song.  It was fun to watch. 

The Thanks I Get for Serving

I hate parades. 

Have I ever mentioned that?  I don’t like the big fancy parades with floats and balloons and things.  I certainly don’t like the small town parades with…people walking down the street, or waving from the cab of their pick-up truck.  Antique cars don’t thrill me.  Neither does people shivering while sitting on a bale of hay on a trailer pulled by an Edsel.  The city of Leavenworth, Kansas, annually hosts the largest Veterans Day Parade west of the Mississippi River, and the second largest in the nation.  Everyone is expected to attend.   It’s really quite annoying.

 

There are no floats.  There are no flowers.  There are no character balloons. There are lots of cars with political signs taped to them.  Every high school marching band in the area joins the parade train, and every Cub Scout, Boy Scout, Girl Scout, and booster club join in the fun.   It’s really just people walking down the middle of the street looking bored, staring at the people lining the street looking back at them. 

  

“Hi, Flo!” 

“Hey, Floyd.  I see you’re marching in the parade again this year.” 

“Twenty-seventh year in a row.” 

“Where’s your float?” 

“Haven’t needed one yet.  Don’t see why I should start now.”

“See you next year, Floyd!”

“Same to you, Flo!” 

Some parades get fancy fly-bys by the Blue Angels or the Thunderbirds.  Two years ago we got two A10 Warthogs.   Those things will make the fillings rattle in your teeth.  This year we’re getting a Wright Flyer. 

 

For 12 seconds.  

  

On Monday, I’ll be walking in the Leavenworth parade.  I’m not sure what I did to deserve this punishment.  I’ve managed to avoid it six out of the seven years I’ve lived here.   The problem is that I am married to the Troop Coordinator of an American Heritage Girls Troop.  She needed a Pathfinder leader.  In a moment of weakness, I agreed to help her out.  Now I’m in charge of a den of five year old girls. 

  

Just shoot me.

The Troop Coordinator LOVES the Veterans Day Parade.  Her troop marched last year.  I managed to remain at home.  This year I’m pulling a red wagon containing one of Pathfinders.   How could I say no?  I sleep next to the Troop Coordinator.  I find I don’t sleep well when I have to sleep with one eye open.   

Oh, well.  If I drink enough Sunday night I should get through it just fine.  If you see a news report about a kindergartener pulling a wagon full of passed-out den leader through a parade, that’ll be me.  It might just be the most interesting entry in the parade. 

Happy Veterans Day

In 1983 I left high school,

where I acted in a few plays.

That summer I wondered about my future while I sold hot dogs at an Orange Julius. I decided to enlist in the Navy

so that I could learn how to take a punch.

I was a cook on board a submarine for two years.  

This picture is probably classified. If I suddenly stop blogging it means I've been arrested.

After two years on the boat I transferred to Naval Support Force Antarctica.  I lived on the ice for one year at McMurdo Station

.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

at the base of the volcano Erebus.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

That tour of duty gave me the opportunity to visit New Zealand

 
 
and live on a sheep and cattle ranch for a week.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I served for five years.   I served with men who saw combat in Vietnam, and who spent more time underwater and on more submarines than I spent in the Navy.  They taught me what service and sacrifice means. Along the way, I learned a little about who I was and where I was going.  
 

I served.