In Honor of My Dad

“Some men think there’s a choice between right and wrong.  Great men know there is none.”

My father inspired this phrase, the theme from my patriotic romance, The Trucker’s Cat.  Dad passed away last week so he and that quote have been in the forefront of my mind.  I’d like to share the story again on the idea behind my novel that’s dedicated to Dad and the rest of my family who have served in the military.

Years ago as part of the Honor Our Veterans program at school, my daughter asked her grandfather to speak to her fourth grade class about his experiences during the Korean War.  He agreed.  With his folder of transparency pictures for his presentation, he and I arrived at Steeby Elementary.  My dad rarely spoke about that time in his life, so I was eager to hear what he had to say.

In the First Marine Division of George Company, he had served as a hospital corpsman and medic in a M.A.S.H. unit.  He had assisted the doctors and nurses in prepping wounded soldiers for surgery.  As he talked about his duties, he showed various pictures of him and his buddies in front of their Army tents.  I visualized Klinger, Rizzo, and Radar.

A boy asked if he had killed anyone.  He hadn’t.  The closest he had gotten to battle was when he had volunteered to go to the front lines to bring back injured soldiers.

“Weren’t you scared?” one of the girls asked.

“No,” he replied, “even though I volunteered, I felt I didn’t have a choice.  Those injured men needed my help.”  He shared a picture of him receiving a commendation medal.

I never saw that picture.  I never knew about the medal.  I never even heard the story.  My siblings and our mother hadn’t either.  When I asked him why he never shared it, he shrugged and said someone stole the medal the next day.

We made some calls to get him a replacement.  A year later, a package arrived with his commendation medal and four others he had been awarded.

That phrase stayed in my head.  He did have a choice; he chose not to have one.  It’s a quality my protagonists have in many of my stories—to put someone else’s life ahead of their own.

IN HONOR OF MY FATHER, I will be donating now through Memorial Day ALL the print and eBook royalties from THE TRUCKER’S CAT to the Otsego VFW Post #3030 where he was a member.  Here’s your chance to read a patriotic romance and say “Thank You” to a Korean War veteran.

The Trucker’s Cat on Amazon

 

The Trucker’s Cat on Goodreads

About The Trucker’s Cat

At the Russian Embassy where she lives with her mother and stepfather, Samantha Randall uncovers a plot to assassinate the U.S. President. Her father’s famous speech urges her to act, so she treks cross-country to warn the driver that his cargo has the proof. She soon finds herself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Driving a truck on a covert assignment, Major Logan McCormick had sworn off women after his bitter divorce. Against protocol, he rescues Samantha and gives the wildcat a ride. Although drawn to Samantha’s uplifting spirit, he uses his sullen nature as a shield against her. Will she see through his rigid manner?

With Russian special forces searching for Logan’s cargo and another team chasing Samantha, they quickly realize they must work together to prevent the unthinkable. Will their sacrifices be enough to stop the assault?

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A Glimpse Where Past Meets Future

David's Salute 1Our son, David, will be on leave next month. It’s been a year since we’ve seen him. As you can imagine, this mum misses him. It brought to mind this post I wrote a few years ago about a moment in my life I still hold close to my heart.

David had just graduated basic training in the Air Force, so we attended the four-day festivities at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas. The celebration included the Airman Run, the Retreat Ceremony, the Coin Ceremony, and the Parade Ceremony. While the pomp and circumstance was all proud parents could ask for, the moment I observed was a quiet unassuming one.

During our private family visit late in the day, David sat with me, my husband, and our daughter in the empty bleachers away from the crowds. We enjoyed his animated stories about his first arrival as an anxious 0-Weeker (the group also known as Rainbow Flight since they were still in their street clothes) and then as a fearful early-Weeker (known as Baby Flight) with their endless running, kitchen duty, and lack of sleep.

All of a sudden, preamble music sounded over the P.A. system. David said, “Excuse me, mum.” He stood up, faced the center of the base toward the flag, snapped to attention, and saluted just as the Star Spangled Banner started playing.

As I watched and listened, I remembered him as a newborn. I had wondered back then what kind of man he would become. I thought about his birthdays, his high school graduation, and all the other firsts. The flood of emotions overwhelmed me, and I cried.

As a writer, I strive to project integrity, loyalty, bravery, honor, and selflessness into the heroes and heroines in my novels. That day, I saw those traits first-hand in my son. My children are my heroes. They inspire me. That moment gave me a glimpse where his past met his future.