My Story...Duty, Honor, Country
He was a
younger brother, Billie Joe was. We grew up on a small homestead in Sadler,
Texas. Billie Joe, me, and our older brother Tom Jr., named after "Big Daddy." I
dearly loved both brothers, especially Billie Joe because he was closer to my
age, I guess. But in retrospect, I really loved them both equally.
We did just about everything there was for children to do on a small family
homestead in those early years, as best I recall.
They took good care of me, Billie Joe and Tommy did. Being older, Tom Jr., was
far wiser and much more mature than Billie Joe and me, Tommy was.
We always worked together when Big Daddy announced the daily chores that needed
to be done. It was more fun that way. Each of us did our own part in our own
way, but I admit I actually played most of the time. I was headstrong and
independent as a young girl.
When there was time left after chores, we created games of sort and sometimes
played tricks on each other. It was child's play, but it was fun. We were so
happy as children.
Mother made sure we ate a good breakfast after the morning work and got us off
to school every day with a reminder that if we wanted to make something of our
lives, "we'd best pay attention in class." We all subsequently graduated from
High School and looked forward to a long life of fun and adventure "in the good
ole United States."
We were a close knit, loving family and survived the long depression years that
ended the lives of many in America.
I smile frequently when I remember the times my brothers kept picking me up
whenever my pony would buck me off. Billie Joe and Tommy laughingly were always
immediately at my side to put me back on. I was a real "Tom Boy" and proud of
it. The three of us would sit close to each other and sing as loud as we could
in church every Sunday morning. We were known throughout Sadler by all as the
"Medlin boys."
We buried my favorite Shirley Temple doll in a back yard funeral one year when I
accidentally dropped it and broke her leg. It was a solemn occasion and we all
cried. I wish I could go back and dig her up, I wish I could.
More than anything, I wish all members of my family were still here, including
Mother and Big Daddy. I thought about my family more and more as I observed my
80th birthday February 29th, this year.
As a young kid, I really didn't realize the implication when Tommy, Billy Joe
and I held that faux funeral for my doll. It was in fact a real life precursor
of many funerals to come, some much sooner than anyone would ever think
possible.
But, even as a very young girl, I knew people died.
Tommy joined the Army and went overseas to war in 1944, Tommy did. It was World
War II and he was in the Normandy invasion. He was old enough to volunteer and
we all cried many times when Tommy left. He was quick to answer the call to
"duty, honor, country."
Tommy miraculously survived the war and we gave thanks to God that he came back
home to us when it was over. Our cries at that time were different, they were
cries of joy and compassion.
Tom Jr., was one of the few to come back alive when so many perished fighting in
foreign lands. It may have been because he was deeply religious before he went
and much more so after he came back. We were a whole family once again and the
war was put in the back of our minds, except for Tommy's mind.
The war left many scars on Tommy's psyche and he was never quite the same as he
was before he left us. I could see it in his eyes and he wouldn't talk about the
war. He lost a lot of buddies during World War II and made a promise to have an
annual reunion every year thereafter with those who did return, in remembrance
of those who didn't.
He kept that vow and never forgot those he knew who died fighting for our
country, right up to his very own passing.
"Duty, honor, country" was the same call for Billie Joe just a few years later
when the Korean War broke out. He joined the Marines, successfully completed
basic training and was promoted to PFC. In just a matter of months he was all
grown up and looked so handsome in his dress uniform. We were proud of him and
knew he would serve as a United States Marine with "honor and distinction." His
uniform bore medals for excellence as a sharpshooter. In fact he was the best in
his company, so I was told.
I never saw him again after he was sent to fight.
The letter we received from the Marines said he was killed in action on April
10, 1951. His duty was done. His body was being escorted back home by another
Marine who knew and served with him in the Korean War. We buried Billie Joe in
Sadler.
It was the worst day of my life. My heart was broken forever.
Perhaps it was the real funeral of "life and death" that he, Tommy and I
unknowingly foresaw when we buried my Shirley Temple doll some16 years or so
earlier.
Billy Joe's life was cut so short, as have the lives of all the men and women
who answered the call to "duty, honor, country" and willingly paid the ultimate
price throughout our Nation's history. Others who served and survived terrible
wounds resulting from war live on with extraordinary limitations as long and as
best they can.
They are all heroes.
I'm certain when I pass on to the next life, I'll see both brothers again.
They'll be there waiting for me to play a game of hide and seek as we relive our
youth. I can still hear their happy young voices to this day, "c'mon on sis,
let's play, you're it."
By the time of Billie Joe's death, I had grown up too, had gotten married and
was with child. Ironically as we said goodbye to Billie Joe my husband, who was
in the Air Force, received notification that he too had been selected for
reassignment to join our forces fighting in Korea commencing in February 1952.
It was now his turn to go to war and we cried again. Mother and I wondered if
war would ever stop? We wondered if my first son would ever see his father?
Mother never knew. She died of a broken heart shortly before my husband was due
to return. She could never reconcile Billie Joe's death. Mother was buried in
our family plot in Sadler next to Billie Joe.
Fortunately, my husband came back alive and whole after the Korean War ended. He
too did his duty and survived, but he won't talk about that war either.
After all isn't "duty, honor, country" the reasons brother Tommy, and brother
Billie Joe, and my husband joined the Army, Marines and Air Force? Isn't that
what we are taught and told to believe in, even though thousands of our finest
children now lie in fields and will never have the opportunity to mature, raise
a family, and live to a "ripe old age" in the promised land of plenty?
Wars have continued throughout my 80 years with no letup in sight, and many of
us at my age remember funerals more than life's experiences. That doesn't seem
right to me. Will wars ever end? I really wonder. Are men and women of all
nations on earth destined to serve and die if necessary for "duty, honor,
country?" To have their lives end before they are 30 years old and never again
walk "the green, green fields of home?"
I hold some degree of solace in that my second eldest son in many ways grows
more like Billie Joe every day. He not only resembles Billie Joe, his mannerisms
and thoughts are Billie Joe personified.
He wasn't yet born when Billie Joe was killed, but he also did his "duty" in the
Army in Europe during the Cold War. Perhaps it is God's way that he is Billie
Joe's reincarnation to me, and it may eventually help me to partially heal my
broken heart.
I look forward to the day my second son and my brother Billie Joe meet each
other. I intend to be there to witness their camaraderie, their "esprit de
corps."
We are still losing more of our children every day in far off lands "doing their
duty, with honor, for country." I pray it ends soon. It's time for the Prince of
Peace to come back on earth.
*By Doris Jeanne (Medlin) Potter and my husband of 57 years
E 2 7 Deceased Korea
"IN HONOR OF OUR MARINE BUDDIES WHO WERE KIA AND THEIR FAMILIES WHO STILL ....
Medlin, Billie Joe, PFC, 658783, Sadler, TX, April 10, 1951, Killed in Action
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