"The jeep he was driving in hit a landmine and killed everyone that was in it." He looked over at Sydney and with a half smile he said, "Not a very glamorous way to die, was it?"
Sydney shook her head to acknowledge that it was not.
"The newspaper said he was a Congressional Medal of Honor winner," she pointed out.
"That he was," Don confirmed for her.
"Would you mind telling how he won it?" Sydney asked hesitantly.
Don stood up off the porch railing, that he had been leaning against. He sat back down on the rocker. Sydney could tell that this was difficult. She told her grandfather that he didn't have to tell her. He insisted that he wanted to.
He rocked his chair a few time before starting his story. He remembered back years ago when he would be at the bar and someone would ask about Sean. He would spend hours reveling in the glorious details of how Sean won the Medal. The more he talked, the more beer he was given.
While rocking in the chair and staring at the ground he started the story that no longer held any glory. "He won it one night when his camp came under sniper attack. The artillery tent caught fire. Sean ran out of his foxhole and pulled the canvas down before the artillery ignited. If that had happened, then whole camp would have been destroyed."
Don paused as he tried to recall the exact wording on the letter of recommendation that was written by his commanding officer. "According to General Roush, he was awarded the Medal,.....let's see how did it read,....being fully aware of the danger of the situation, Lt. Bristow, unhesitatingly and with complete disregard for his own safety, ran out of the security of his foxhole and prevented the artillery tent from igniting. His gallant action and his total disregard for his own personal well being directly saved his troops from certain serious injury or death. This action also distracted the snipers long enough so that the troops could advance and terminate their activity."
Don leaned his chair back and told Sydney, "When he pulled the tent down, he suffered second and third degree burns over 70% of his body. He had been in the hospital for a month, being stabilized. His hands were severely injured so they were sending him home. That was the ironic thing about the jeep accident, he was being taken to a ship that was going to transport him home."
Sydney tried to visualize the activity in the camp that night. Visualize her uncle risking his life to save his men. While doing so she also realized that Sean was a hero to his parents and brother, long before the government awarded him a Medal. "You must have been awfully proud of him," Sydney remarked.
Don shook his head in confirmation. "I was. I use to think that I was someone special because of what he did. That was part of the reason I was so upset with your father for not going into the Army. He was suppose to go over there and avenge Sean's death for me. Then I would have had two sons to brag about, to the boys at the bar."
"But instead of joining the Army, Dad joined the SLM and then married a communist."
"I'm sorry Sydney," Don said apologetically. "I shouldn't have called your mother that. Your father really cared for her and that should have been good enough for me. Unfortunately, it took loosing him to realize that."
Sydney got off the railing she had been leaning against. She paced the porch as she ran dates and ages through her head. "So Sean died in 1962, Dad would have been 12 then. He told me he was 12 when his mother died. Who died first?"
"Sean did," Don confirmed for her. "But in a way, they died on the same day."
Sydney shook her head to acknowledge that it was not.
"The newspaper said he was a Congressional Medal of Honor winner," she pointed out.
"That he was," Don confirmed for her.
"Would you mind telling how he won it?" Sydney asked hesitantly.
Don stood up off the porch railing, that he had been leaning against. He sat back down on the rocker. Sydney could tell that this was difficult. She told her grandfather that he didn't have to tell her. He insisted that he wanted to.
He rocked his chair a few time before starting his story. He remembered back years ago when he would be at the bar and someone would ask about Sean. He would spend hours reveling in the glorious details of how Sean won the Medal. The more he talked, the more beer he was given.
While rocking in the chair and staring at the ground he started the story that no longer held any glory. "He won it one night when his camp came under sniper attack. The artillery tent caught fire. Sean ran out of his foxhole and pulled the canvas down before the artillery ignited. If that had happened, then whole camp would have been destroyed."
Don paused as he tried to recall the exact wording on the letter of recommendation that was written by his commanding officer. "According to General Roush, he was awarded the Medal,.....let's see how did it read,....being fully aware of the danger of the situation, Lt. Bristow, unhesitatingly and with complete disregard for his own safety, ran out of the security of his foxhole and prevented the artillery tent from igniting. His gallant action and his total disregard for his own personal well being directly saved his troops from certain serious injury or death. This action also distracted the snipers long enough so that the troops could advance and terminate their activity."
Don leaned his chair back and told Sydney, "When he pulled the tent down, he suffered second and third degree burns over 70% of his body. He had been in the hospital for a month, being stabilized. His hands were severely injured so they were sending him home. That was the ironic thing about the jeep accident, he was being taken to a ship that was going to transport him home."
Sydney tried to visualize the activity in the camp that night. Visualize her uncle risking his life to save his men. While doing so she also realized that Sean was a hero to his parents and brother, long before the government awarded him a Medal. "You must have been awfully proud of him," Sydney remarked.
Don shook his head in confirmation. "I was. I use to think that I was someone special because of what he did. That was part of the reason I was so upset with your father for not going into the Army. He was suppose to go over there and avenge Sean's death for me. Then I would have had two sons to brag about, to the boys at the bar."
"But instead of joining the Army, Dad joined the SLM and then married a communist."
"I'm sorry Sydney," Don said apologetically. "I shouldn't have called your mother that. Your father really cared for her and that should have been good enough for me. Unfortunately, it took loosing him to realize that."
Sydney got off the railing she had been leaning against. She paced the porch as she ran dates and ages through her head. "So Sean died in 1962, Dad would have been 12 then. He told me he was 12 when his mother died. Who died first?"
"Sean did," Don confirmed for her. "But in a way, they died on the same day."