(b) 1860s. Alum Bank, Pa. Home of my 3rd great-grandparents George and Nancy Harbaugh. A stop along the Underground Railroad for slaves seeking freedom. And for six sons/nephews that left for the Civil War. But did not return.

My father volunteered for Vietnam the day he graduated High School. An AMS3 (Petty Officer 3C), he was a plane captain for the newly deployed LTV A-7 Corsairs on the USS Constellation (CV-64). Is insubordination ... genetic?

Sillyish Sunday! The smart voices inside my head have convinced me that THIS should have been the correct response to the hidden lessons of 2021. So. Since they'll only ever go one-way. Goodbye, emotions.

My paternal grandfather served as a T/4 artillery mechanic in the Aleutians during WW2. He was wounded at Dutch Harbor, survived the Battle of Attu and then escaped an avalanche - by going for a walk. THIS? Really happened.

My maternal grandfather served in Third Army, HQ - a T/5 cook to Patton's staff in WW2. A photographer - he took pictures, collected postcards and "liberated" items along the way. History feels very real ... when you can hold it.

Anyone that served did so for their own individual reason. Yet. We have a tendency to romanticize their sacrifice. To convince ourselves some noble cause was worth the cost. But. What truly matters? We’re still arguing.

Classified or not. Theft or not. The bottom line, end of the day “thing” is this. As I recall from the posters in my grandfather’s basement – “Loose Lips Sink Ships”. And. Loose papers? Well. Use your imagination. Or not.