Graduation Speech: The First Vietnam War

      The thing that stuck out most in my grandfather mind he said was; “looking forward to go home”. The war got tough in many ways and situations which made my him wish he was home with his family again.

On March 25th, 2017, I interviewed Charlotte “Putse” McCarroll who was born on June 3rd, 1935 in Cyrus, Minnesota. I asked her about her life and experiences during WWII. She doesn’t recall much about the actual War. She was a 4-year-old child during the start of the War and was in grade school when the War ended. She didn’t have any family members that she remembers actually being in the War. Putse told me that while the war was occurring she just stayed at home or went to school. She kind of remembers gathering around with her family and just praying for it to end. She said that life was very different because everyone was scared and no one knew what was going to happen. She thought to herself that anything could

It is now the end of the war and I feel that I have changed a lot over the course of these five years. At the beginning of the war I was a small, boy who loved to go to school and listen to Shad’s lessons. My top priority was learning and then helping my mother on the farm. (Hunt, 13) Once my brothers and Shad left for war my family was divided, with Bill on the Confederate side and everyone else on the Union side. (41) As the war goes on and Shad stops being my teacher I don’t like school as much as I did before. My father has a heart attack and I need to step up to help my family more. (91) The most important thing to me now is making sure my family is all right, school is enjoyable but not as important. Getting letters from my John, Eb,

Welcome ladies and gentlemen. I am honored to introduce such a young, intelligent, and passionate man. He is dedicated to what he does and has taught me quite a few lessons in the past. Here he is, 16 year old Ian Hanson.

Generally speaking, I think back about how it impacted my life and the life of my family. It impacted my life and the life of my family because of the fear, change, and new technology that occurred during the war. Also I hope that my family and I can adjust to the impacts of the war in the years to

The Great Depression was over, and a new era began. After trying twice to join the army, L.C. was drafted into the army in 1941, at the age of 21. We have seen numbers of the people who died, and we have seen statistics of the men in World War Two, but we never had to live in that terror of death and hurt. After fighting in Africa against the Germans, it was time to go to Italy. During the Invasion of Italy, he remembered seeing his friends get killed. Incoming shells broke the dirt loose on the beach and covered him up three feet below the surface. Friends eventually dug him and another man out of the sand. My father says that he never really talked about the war that much. I believe its because he was trying to move on instead of being stuck in that time of his life. As his son James said, “ He had every reason to dwell on the past, but he believed everyday was a good day since he

My father experienced something I never have, being drafted into the US Army at age 18. He is, as Tom Brokow (former NBC News Anchor) put it, a member of “the greatest generation.” I’ve often wondered what it would feel like to be a young man of draft age during a world crisis, sent to fight in countries overseas, and then witness the unbelievable horrors of war.

On the train ride home it was dead silent. It seemed as if no one knew where they were going to. I didn't really even think about what I would be doing after the war and where I would be going, till now. I think I will just be going back home to my mom and go see my brother wherever he is. I want to show her i'm a man and that I lived through the war.

It was June 1917 when I had to say goodbye to my dad. We knew that the war was going on in Europe, but we didn’t know the extent of it until just a few months ago. When I had to say goodbye to my dad, I didn't know if it was going to be the last time I saw him or not. I didn’t know how life was going to work, I had so many questions. How were we going to make enough money to survive? Who was going to take care of the rest of the kids? Will I have to take care of them because I’m the oldest? All of these questions were going through my mind and they were questions that not even my parents knew the answer to. I didn't know if anybody knew the answers, so I began to answer them myself. I said well I’ll stay home and play the role of my mom while Mom goes out to work. I’ll get my brothers and sisters up for school because Mom would already be off to work. Then I would send the rest of the kids off to school while I stayed back and did the things my mother would do.

I stand looking at myself at the mirror, wondering will things get better? Now that the war is finally over, will father come home? We haven’t received any letters from him, ever since the war started. I take mother’s old scissors from when she used to cut my hair, and begin to contemplate. Then I have decided, and in a few snips my long, blond hair is gone. My hair is now up to my shoulders. I hear mother reading to my little brother, Maxwell, upstairs. She always reads him the same story, The Adventures of Pinocchio, which was given to her by my grandparents just like this old Oklahoma farmhouse. My mother always comforted me with that book, but now that I am nine she thinks I am old enough to fall asleep without her. Although, I still long for her and my father’s comfort, when they would hug me and kiss me to bed every night, before the war. I crawl back up into my bed with my red, long sleeve pajamas on, and faintly hear mother creaking down the hall. You can hear the floorboards creaking, they never got fixed to due to the war. She comes in my room and whispers, “Goodnight Marley, I love you.” She feels my hair, and I whisper back, “Night Mother, I love you.”

The day was 11/10/1918. I was heading home from the war, and I was more tired than I ever thought a man could be. It was the last few days of the war, and we knew that Germany couldn’t fight much longer so we took lots of troops back home. We were a few hours away from shore, and I couldn’t wait to see my children. I wondered how big they might have gotten. They were only three years old when I left, and it has been two years. I also wondered how much they wanted to see me, or if they even remembered me. I thought that they had to remember who I was. They were three, they could remember things like that. I was In my room and I was talking to my roommate trying to pass the time. We had been sleeping in the same room for a couple of days,

It’s been exactly 28 years since the end of the war. I thought as I directed my vision towards the clock, as the long hand ticked every movement ending my thought. Getting up I grabbed my crane and followed the fading colored tiles until ‘oaf’. “God Dammit, who left the lamp here!” wrapping my long decaying fingers at its neck I fumed. Balancing myself as I rose footsteps were heard thumping along the wooden discolored flooring. “Grandpa!” a hand grabbed mine pulling me up revealing my granddaughter. “Arabella “, I calmly said as I was soon sitting on my favorite rocking chair. Her honey colored hair framed her heart shaped face as she focused her worried gray eyes into mine. “Grandpa, what happened? Are you okay?” Waving my hand to direction of the empty glass she seemed to understand and running water could be heard as she scolded me for attempting to get water. Twisting the faucet she continued her pressing questions, “I told you many times grandpa to rest and ask me if you needed anything”. Her eyes wide with disappointment she cupped my hand around the glass. “Honey, it seems you have forgotten what a strong young man I once was and look I’m alright just lousy misplaced objects getting in my way” pointing at the dusty lamp that stood tall in front of the granite counter tops covered with dirty dishes. She took a sit on the matching couch next to my chair, chuckling she spoke “Of course I know of your youth”, a look of reminiscing taking over her face. “How can I forget a story you tell me every year”. A sudden noise brought the conversation to a halt. “Arabella, honey is everything alright?” Rushing to her feet her phone laying in her hand her feet hurried to the door where the coat hanger stood holding a coat. “Grandpa, I’m sorry I have to go it seems there is an emergency at the hospital and I’m needed”, her lips trying to keep up the fast pace of the words spewing from her mouth. Shooing her off me rested my head on the backboard of the chair. A creaking noise echoed as the gusty wind blew the door shut and silence soon returned and filled its place. Grabbing the remote the black screen evaded as colors fused making out people sitting behind a desk each one dressed professionally and a voice

There were mothers hugging their boys, younger siblings giving the older siblings items to remember them, or to use as good luck charms, wives crying as their husbands boarded the train. I just stood behind watching, there was no one from Beckham that I could say good-bye to, the war office had decided that my father was to help the war office from Beckham Place, rather than at the front line. When I had seen enough, I headed back to Beckham Place. Although that day had been very dreadful, when I got back to Beckham Place, I made a decision that would change the next couple years.

“I will hurry home the day the war ends,” Dad promised as he left the house the next morning. Our family believed that he would return to us, but it has been a month since the war ended, and he still has not arrived. Our next door neighbors, the

“Sammie Jo, get up. We have to go drop dad off,” I hear mom say from my door. I roll out of bed with my doll, my brother is already in the living room. Dad has a big duffle bag sitting by the couch. He says good-bye to the dogs and then we all walk out to the car. My brother and I do not say word the whole car ride. Mommy was crying and holding dad’s hand on the way to Cherry Point. It took us about twenty minutes to get on base and to my dad's work building. There was a lot of buff men in their cammies, some of them are already on the bus. “What is going on?” I think to myself. Dad gives mom a hug and kiss before he gave me and my brother a hug. I don’t understand what is going on but I don’t let go off my daddy for what felt like forever. “Time to let go kiddo,” Dad says before making me pull away. He gives us one last look before walking into the big group of Marines. I keep my eyes on him as long as possible before he gets on the bus and drives away.