Today is Veteran’s Day, well actually the day after the official one and the one that counts for most people; they get the day off. But that does not mean we should forget all that have fought and sacrificed their lives for our freedom. I don’t really have a connection to any who have served, but I do have one thing: my memories of G. I. Joe.
My dad served in basic training but did not serve in the Viet Nam war, my uncle was in World War II, but unfortunately my interest in asking him didn’t happen until it was too late. I even had a period where I had a draft number, but I don’t think they’d want me now even though I’m in better shape than I was when I was eighteen.
So that leaves me with those tiny fighting soldiers. G.I. Joe.
My brother and I, we had them all. We had all the branches of the service as well as all the accouterments. We would make them dive, rescue, fly and for some reason, looking at this photo, dress up as a cowboy. Since that predates “don’t ask, don’t tell,” I’m thinking that’s an accident that the Lone Ranger got in there and not us imagining what they wore on “leave.”
But I guess that’s what I think is the most important thing and what I remember: We made them do all the things. It was our imagination. We played for hours and hours, in the grass, in the dirt, on the carpet and I’m sure in the bathtub. We were active beyond the movement of our thumbs.
So to all who served and risked their lives, thank you. I wish I had the GI Joe’s so I could make a fortune on ebay.