In my last entry, I said my son went to basic training at Fort Hood. WRONG! His boot camp was at Fort Benning, Georgia. How could I forget? My daughter and I went that long, long trip to watch him graduate.
That's the trouble with getting older: your memories blur, and names and places get mixed up.
At least I caught this mistake before anyone else jogged my memory, although I'm sure my son or daughter noticed it.
It was at Fort Benning, watching the graduation ceremonies, that I realized most of the soldiers who died in all of our wars were just boys! I mean, these guys marching in front of the grandstands all looked like kids. That's when it hit me that my Uncle Paul and my brother-in-law, Russell, were kids when they fought in World War II, not old guys, as I knew them to be at that time.
It was an eye-opening experience.