Buried a Super-Man Today

I went to grade school, junior high and high school with Chris Fyffe and we spent lots of time together over the years, today we buried Chris' dad....there goes another one.
I had to smile through the tears at the funeral.
Just like my dad who died a few years ago, he was born before the depression, and survived; served our great nation to save the world in World War ll, and survived; and then he went to Korea, and survived.
If you read the obituary, you know that Mr. Fyffe was one of the last survivors of the Pearl Harbor attack. His ship was also hit by a Kamikaze attack which sunk his ship and they were in the water for hours if not days. He survived but lost many friends, you can imagine the horror.
General Omar Bradley was asked how we would win WW ll, and he told the reporters we had a secret weapon. They all gathered close with their pencils ready to hear about what it was, and Gen. Bradley said, "The American soldier." Another secret weapon was buried today.
These men, thousands die each day, were responsible for saving the world and ending tyranny. We owe so much. Some of us remember the turmoil of our youth, when we thought we knew everything. When we complained about our parents and how they didn't have the latest tape deck, or cassette, the newest car or some other gadget. We forgot that they were the generation that won the world its freedom, and then came back to the world they left behind and invented all those new technologies that we have taken, and standing on their shoulders, created newer technologies and a better world.
They described Mr. Fyffe as not very friendly, in fact he didn't make many friends, fearing he might lose them like he did his friends and buddies in WW ll. My dad was the same way. Many of our fathers probably felt we don't appreciate the freedoms they won for us. Our fathers came back different than when they left, and before they considered Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
My dad wasn't the friendliest guy either, Danny Overland always told me he had never heard anyone use language like my dad, in fact my dad used to say, "Jesus Christ, Larry!" and Danny thought my parents named me after the Savior.
It was a mostly older group today. Chris and his wife looked great, we promised to meet on our motorcycles for a weekend of camping at Lake Murray, and all are welcome, we could make it a reunion for all the people we like.
I cried this afternoon because Chris' dad reminded me so much of my dad's death, I was in shock when my Dad died, buy every single time I go to a funeral, and see the magnificent flag that means so much to patriots and people around the world it all comes back. Our flag is the symbol that inspires people who will lash their bodies to anything that will float with the prayer that an one of America's secret weapons on a Navy ship will pluck them from the waves. There is a touching story of a Navy sailor who rescued some Vietnamese refugees in the South China see, and they didn't know much English, but when they were rescued and brought on board, they looked into the eyes of the American sailor and said, "Hello freedom-man! "
Today, at the funeral, one of the elderly gentlemen went to see his friend for one last time in a casket draped in our flag. You could tell he was former military, because he was sharply-dressed and was standing a little straighter when he got to the casket, looked at his friend with his Army uniform, and snapped one last salute for his fallen comrade.
So when you say your prayers tonight, say one extra for Bill Fyffe and his family. Another Superman, who pledged on the Constitution to protect and defend America. And the next time your thinking about how tough life can be, remember those who sacrificed and made the world we enjoy today possible. God Bless our veterans and God Speed Bill Fyffe.