Dubie…

I guess he would be quite a bit over 100 if he were alive today. A common man. Made his living in the Indiana limestone quarries. He wasn’t afraid of hard work. Fell in love, married young, it was war time.

James Lloyd McCammon, “Dubie” to his buddies and family, was a loyal father and husband. It wasn’t long, though, until his name was called. He left behind his wife and little girl to join his squadron and fellow soldiers to fight for his country in Italy.

When the war was over, Dubie came back to many unknowns. Things had changed, he had changed. Many of his buddies didn’t return home with him. He was on the front line, and he saw things that most men never spoke of again.

He received a purple heart for his heroism. He and countless thousands of other heroes just like him that we are eternally indebted to.

But life goes on…

What happens inside of a man who gives all for his country and when he comes home is expected to be “normal” again? Some men are never “normal”. They appear to be on the outside, but inside they die a slow death. What they experienced, what they went through, the things they had to do are forever etched in their minds and 70+ years ago there was no help, no treatment, no support for men like Dubie.

He withdrew. After work he came home and would sit in front of the television, watch a John Wayne or an old war movie, smoke way too many Lucky Strikes, have a Falstaff, maybe two. Go to bed early. Repeat the pattern the next day.

As the years went by, he became more and more of a recluse. Once he retired? He only went out of the house for one more occasion…my sister’s wedding.

Dubie was my grandfather. He was a veteran.

This is his story.

It needs to be told. He died of lung cancer, untreated, afraid, sitting in his house just waiting. We couldn’t even get him to go to the hospital until he collapsed.

I was the only one with my grandfather when he died. My family had all been taking turns and my mother and grandmother were finally convinced to get some rest. Papaw Dubie was comatose but we were convinced he heard us, so, of course we talked to him.

Around midnight, I told him I was stepping outside to get a drink and would be right back. While I was gone, he slipped quietly into eternity. The nurse told me he was waiting on me to leave. I think she was right.  He never wanted to be in the way; he would want to leave quietly, just the way he came in.

But I wanted people to know, Papaw. I wanted them to know the good things you did, how hard you worked, how much you loved, how patient, how kindhearted you were.

And millions more just like you, whose stories need to be told.

My grandfather was the only Veteran in my immediate family. He has been gone a while and yes, I know the difference between Memorial Day and Veterans Day (smile). But he was a Veteran and even though he struggled with PTSD before it had a name, he was a hero who served, and in spite of the difficulties, he would have done it all over again.

On this Veterans Day we salute and say, “Thank you” to all of those who have served our great country in the Armed Forces. America is safer and stronger because of you.