Eagle My Heroes Eagle

We all have our heroes. As children they generally are fictitious characters dreamed up by some author. These heroes never lost and never died. As we grow and mature into what we hope are intelligent adults, our heroes become real people that have shared themselves for the betterment of others. There are all kinds of heroes out there, men and women that do not think of themselves first and have devoted themselves to their tasks by taking a job that gives them the opportunity every working day to help some unfortunate. They all deserve our gratitude. They have saved lives and property. They work hard everyday to keep us all safe and sound. And then there are the heroes that do not save a life or someone's property because it's part of the job they love so much. They do it because the opportunity has presented itself, they are in the position to help, and they apply themselves without hesitation. Again, we should be very grateful that these heroes exist.

If you had to pick just one hero in your life to write about, who would it be? So many to choose from. The world is full of candidates. Nobody has asked me to pick a hero. I did not decide to put this web page up because someone asked who my favorite hero is. I read Dear Abby today and that forced my decision to set up this web page. I've had a patriotic page on the web in the past, however, due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to take it down. I've always regretted having to do that because, you see, my heroes are those men and women of the United States Armed Forces who have devoted their lives to the betterment of this country's citizens. Freedom rings because of them. What did Dear Abby have to do with this? Today's column mentioned that it is that time of the year again for Valentine's For Veterans. For the past 10 years, Abby has backed this program where we are asked to show our gratitude to our disabled vets by sending valentine cards to vet hospitals to be distributed amongst those brave men and women who are disabled or too sick to go home. It's just a small thing to do to thank someone for giving their ultimate for our freedom and way of life. This is not much to ask of us for our comforts, is it? All you need to do is look in your phone book for the nearest Veteran's Hospital, buy a card or two and send them off. It's that easy. Put a smile on the face of a United States Veteran!

I SUPPORT OUR TROOPS IN KOSOVO

Valentine's Day is not the only day we should say "thank you". Those two simple but important words can be said every day of our lives. Missed Valentine's Day? How about just a thank you card. I don't think any veteran wouldn't appreciate it. I'm know there's someone fighting for peace right now that wishes someone would thank them for being there. It doesn't matter what the cause of the war may be. America calls and our forces go. Let them know that our prayers and thoughts are with them for a safe return. Some veterans returned to be buried in American soil. Some never returned at all and we are still trying to get them back where they belong. The fight is always on. Remember our Veterans and the men and women that are serving right now!

Sands of time are running out for the POW

Charles H. Davis

(Not a very clear picture)

Italy, Date Unknown

My dad, Charles H. Davis, was in the Army for 22 years. I was born an "Army Brat" and I'm proud to be an Army Brat. My sister and I were fortunate growing up that we didn't have to move around that much. My Dad and Mom hated to see us disrupted with a lot of displacement, so we only had to travel out of the United States one time. Our movements within the States was limited to the East Coast. It was hard on my dad to have to leave his family home when he was transferred to foreign countries, but he felt it better for us to stay in the good ole USA. In 1952, my dad was given his orders to Tehran, Iran. That was the one time our family went to a station as a family. We spent three years there as my father was ordered to run the mess hall at the American Hospital in Iran. I have pretty good recall on our time there. My sister and I learned to speak the language fluently and on occasion interpreted for my mom and dad. Unfortunately, the years have taken their toll and I no longer can speak any of it. No reason to speak it once we came back. We've have a ton of pictures from our time over there. Since I was so young at the time, I did not know the politics of the country. Sure have learned a lot about them since! I'm very grateful to my father and proud of his accomplishments. My dad died on January 8, 1974 and is buried, along with my mother, Lena M. Davis, at the Veterans Cemetery in Los Angeles, California. They are both greatly missed and my dad, "my hero", still makes me proud every time patriotism is displayed. Thank you, Dad, for making me the proud American that I am.

MY PHOTO GALLERY

Dad, 1939 This picture was taken circa 1939. Dad is kneeling on the right hand side. My dad joined the Army in 1937, at age 16, when there was still a Calvary. That's why the hats look like they do. My dad even had a horse! I asked him one time if he knew General Custer. He didn't think that was very funny..... My dad was a medic for a long time. He said that when he was sent to Europe in the big WWII, they sent him as a medic. Dad earned the Silver Star for bravery when he pulled a wounded soldier in from the field with bullets blazing. He stated to me that he was proud that he did that (the soldier lived to go home), however, he told his officer that he just knew that one of those bullets had his name on it. He promptly turned in his medics bag for a gun. Dad then became infantry and started shooting back.

Mom and Dad were married on February 22, 1941. Dad was sent to Europe in February of 1942. Mom gave birth to my sister, Marilyn, on September 19, 1942. Dad didn't get to hold her until 1945. One of the really sad parts of any war. Wedding Picture - Mom and Dad

Dad and buddies Dad and fellow servicemen. I'm not sure exactly when this was taken or where. Most of my pictures have names and dates on them, however, this one does not. Dad is on the right. I haven't a clue of the circumstances of this picture. I sure wish I had a story for it. The way those guys look, it wasn't a pleasant situation at at.

I just love this picture of my mother. It's so early 50's. While station in Iran, my dad was always given the best of vehicles for transportation because he was such an important man in the mess hall at the hospital! We used to go out into the desert for weekend camping trips. We were taught how to handle a rifle out there. Sure didn't have to worry about killing anyone. Maybe a rock. The adults loved to play golf out there in the desert. The only problem they had was that occasionally a camel caravan would pass by and the "golfers" had to wait for them to pass. The army truck may not have been the most comfortable to travel in, but then we did have the best in a 4 wheel drive! Mom

Me and mom Growing up, my mom and I did our part as well. (Quite the chunker, wasn't I?) Once a military family, always a military family. My Girl Scout Troop used to march in the town Memorial Day Parade. My mother made my father teach us how to march properly. After the parade, the head lady at the Girl Scout House in town (can't really remember what her title was), wrote a letter to the local newspaper which published it. She wanted the whole town to know how wonderful our troop looked marching in the parade. She was proud of the troop and wished that my father would be so kind as to teach the Boy Scouts how to march like that. Needless to say, he told her he was too busy!