My dad served 20 years in the U. S. Navy. When he retired, he was a Chief Petty Officer. It’s a non-commissioned position. I was fairly young when he retired, so all I remember of the ceremony is sitting in a cafeteria like room on a plastic chair and listening to some officer go on about the ones who were retiring. Oh yea, there was cake, afterward.
Dad’s always been humble about his service. He does not think it is a big deal. Was just doing a job. He did more than that, I say. He protected the freedom of every family in the U. S., he protected our rights and our livelihoods. Dad shipped out twice that I know of. Once when we lived in Morocco (I being born there) and again in the 1980s, to Lebanon. He was in Beirut when the suicide bomber drove a truck into a building during breakfast. When he got back to North Carolina, my baby brother didn’t recognize Dad. He cried when Dad held him. The rest of us didn’t know what to expect, even though we had kept in touch with audio tapes and he sent us post cards.
Myself, I did not enter the Armed Forces. I respect all who have. I have friends who are still in, or in the Reserves.
Hats off to you today, Dad! And cousin Butchie! And to all of our service members, commissioned and non-coms, alike!
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