Seventeen years ago when I was just a young punk of 18 years I considered joining the Marine Corps. I had told my grandfather, Colonel Edward Grayson that I wasn’t worried about getting into any wars. “Who did we have to worry about, the Chinese?”
The Korean War veteran and member of the Chosin Few looked at me and said, “you don’t want to fight the Chinese. They keep coming”. “They keep coming”, he said. I imagined then, as I do now, a Chinese body wave attack, 150,000 strong rushing at him and his 30,000 American counter-parts bunkered down in the frozen northern, reservoir of North Korea. It’s a vision I have thought of many times over the years with increasing admiration of what this great man has endured in his life. More and more Chinese entered the battle shortly after and completely encircled the American Army and Marine units in the area. My grandfather was one of the 12,000 Americans that made it back across enemy lines to safety.
Born in Mississippi in 1922 and raised in that state by a Baptist minister, during the great depression, his childhood was anything but the luxury we see in today’s world. At 19 he enlisted in the Marine Corps. He served in every enlisted rank from private to master sergeant. He was commissioned a second lieutenant in 1952 and was promoted to colonel in 1973.
To put things in perspective, World War II started for the United States in 1941 or the same year he enlisted in the corps. By the time he was finished serving our country we had already finished the Vietnam War 35 years later. It’s my belief that his career covered a span of the most influential years of our country’s history.
When he was 20 years old he was taking a rest on a south pacific island after a beach landing aboard a Higgins personnel transport vehicle. After a lieutenant yelled at him and told him to put his helmet back on; a Japanese sniper shot him right in the head. The bullet entered the chamber of the helmet, spun around inside but did not exit the inside of the helmet and did not enter his skull. He survived that too.
This man was struck not once, not twice but three times by a bolt of lightning. Have you ever heard of such things?
Finally, in the end, it was father time that proved to be the only force capable of sending him to the afterlife.
What I would like my children to know is that their great-Grandfather was one of the greatest of the greatest generation. He was not only brave but hard-working, courteous, thoughtful at all times and just a good person overall.
My admiration for him is stronger than ever and I will miss him.
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