"Shifty" by Chuck Yeager

Subject: "Shifty" By Chuck Yeager Notice at the end how many medals and decorations Shifty was awarded!!!!!!!!!!!! "Shifty" By Chuck Yeager SHIFTY DIED JAN 17, 2011..........rest in peace. "Shifty" By Chuck Yeager Shifty volunteered for the airborne in WWII and served with Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Infantry. If you've seen Band of Brothers on HBO or the History Channel, you know Shifty. His character appears in all 10 episodes, and Shifty himself is interviewed in several of them.. I met Shifty in the Philadelphia airport several years ago. I didn't know who he was at the time. I just saw an elderly gentleman having trouble reading his ticket. I offered to help, assured him that he was at the right gate, and noticed the "Screaming Eagle," the symbol of the 101st Airborne, on his hat. Making conversation, I asked him if he d been in the 101st Airborne or if his son was serving. He said quietly that he had been in the 101st. I thanked him for his service, then asked him when he served, and how many jumps he made. Quietly and humbly, he said "Well, I guess I signed up in 1941 or so, and was in until sometime in 1945 ... " at which point my heart skipped. At that point, again, very humbly, he said "I made the 5 training jumps at Toccoa, and then jumped into Normandy . . . do you know where Normandy is?" At this point my heart stopped. I told him "yes, I know exactly where Normandy is, and I know what D-Day was." At that point he said "I also made a second jump into Holland , into Arnhem ." I was standing with a genuine war hero .... and then I realized that it was June, just after the anniversary of D-Day. I asked Shifty if he was on his way back from France , and he said "Yes... And it ' s real sad because, these days, so few of the guys are left, and those that are, lots of them can't make the trip." My heart was in my throat and I didn't know what to say. I helped Shifty get onto the plane and then realized he was back in Coach while I was in First Class. I sent the flight attendant back to get him and said that I wanted to switch seats. When Shifty came forward, I got up out of the seat and told him I wanted him to have it, that I'd take his in coach. He said "No, son, you enjoy that seat. Just knowing that there are still some who remember what we did and who still care is enough to make an old man very happy." His eyes were filling up as he said it. And mine are brimming up now as I write this. Shifty died on Jan. l7 after fighting cancer. There was no parade. No big event in Staples Center .. No wall to wall back to back 24x7 news coverage. No weeping fans on television. And that's not right!! Let's give Shifty his own Memorial Service, online, in our own quiet way. Please forward this email to everyone you know. Especially to the veterans. Rest in peace, Shifty. Chuck Yeager, Maj Gen. [ret.]

P.S. I think that it is amazing how the "media" chooses our "heroes" these days... Michael Jackson, Charlie Sheen, Lindsey Lohan & the like that don't deserve one second of air time or our attention!

My Brother-in-law sent me this-thought it was good enough to repost

"We Shall Not Tarry Long On This Hill."

One constant in the old western movies the cemetery is called "Boot Hill." Usually this is a small barren hill just outside of town. In this place some graves are marked with wood or simple stone and some are not marked at all. It is a place were all men are equal, rich and poor alike find their final resting place side by side. Such is also the case today, "dust to dust and ashes to ashes" or as Wordsworth put it, "from dust thou art, to dust returnth was not written of the soul."

My experience preaching throughout West Texas has shown me that the truth is much like the fiction of these movies. It is common that cemeteries are found on a small hill just outside of town. They tend to be lonely barren places with stone markers row upon row, yet even today some are unmarked. These places are quiet except the wind rustling in the leaves and grass. The sad haunting song that sings our names, echoing eerily upon the gentle breeze.

It was then on a cold wintry West Texas day that our story takes place. A day when the cold wind cuts through you like a knife through butter. A frigid wind like a spear hurled by the hand of some ancient, mythic warrior that pierces your very soul. In Aspermont, Texas I prepared for the funeral service of the father of a dear friend. A man nick named “Gimp” a rough-neck, life long oil patch worker who had drilled his last well and brought in his last barrel of crude. We awaited the slow procession, a single line of cars, winding, twisting its way out of town to that place on the hill just outside of town. A parade led as was only fitting by a Cadillac Coach. His son had some final words of advice for me as we reached that lonely hillside just outside of town.

Don turned to me and said, "Bob remember, we shall not tarry long on this hill!" Words of wisdom that have served me well for these many years. Don Mullis, you are a wise and good man, and I thank you.

Bob Phillips

"I'll See You On Monday"

"I'll See You On Monday"
by Bob Phillips on Tuesday, March 15, 2011 at 9:00am
March 15, 2011
"Bobby"

My father was born on March 14, 1918, the year the Great War, The War to End all Wars, ended. I was on the road yesterday and did not get home until midnight so I wanted to take some time today to remember may Daddy. He lived through the dustbowl, the great depression and fought his way across the Pacific during World War 2. He came home to a young wife and son to start a new life and rebuild America. He has been gone for some time now but I still think of him almost everyday and wonder what he thinks of me and the man I have become. Why is it that a 60 year old man still worries about what his father thinks about him and still seeks his approval? Daddy would you be proud of the man I have become?

I recall working beside him in the fields, bailing hay, harvesting peanuts, working cows, working on a car or truck or old tractor. After he lost his left hand I would hold the nails while he started them with his hammer, or holding the wedge while it hit it with a sledge hammer to split post or wood. It is amazing the trust a son has in his father. Daddy would you be proud of the man I have become?

I see your face more now than ever when I look into the mirror. I see you in my sons and daughter. There are days when I wish I could talk to you again and ask your advice. The good advice you offered when I was a young man and which I so often ignored. Funny, isn't it how much wiser you became the older I grew and how much I would give to just spend and hour talking to you. Daddy would you be proud of the man I have become?

I still recall the last time we spoke. You were so weak, fighting as always but this time for just one more breath. I had to leave you because I had to preach the next day and it was a 3 hour drive home, but I lingered as long as I could. I sat beside you on your bed and said, "Daddy don't give up on me?" You whispered in reply, "I am trying son..." I kissed you on the forehead and said, "I love you, daddy, I'll see you on Monday." I did not know those would be the last words we spoke to each other, but I am very glad that they were our final words. Daddy would you be proud of the man I have become?

I meant the words I spoke as I sat beside you on the bed. They are still true today, "Daddy, I Love you, and I'll see you on Monday." You wait for me beyond the shinning crystal sea in that eternal Monday the day that follows the "Day of the Lord." I see you standing there gazing over the sea, baby blue eyes searching for me. I see you smiling, longing to greet me on the edge of the eternal sea. I'll see you on Monday I said to you and now I hear your whisper upon the wind, "I'll see you on Monday, Son." I hope you are proud of the man I have come to be. "I'll See You On Monday!"

Robert Alan ("Bobby")

Son of Wanda Colleen Sanders Phillips and John Henry Phillips