[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 147 (2001), Part 8]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page 10905]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



                       FLAG AND FATHERS' DAY 2000

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                           HON. JOHN L. MICA

                               of florida

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, June 14, 2001

  Mr. MICA. Mr. Speaker, on Flag Day and as we approach Fathers' Day 
2000, I thought it would be appropriate to share with my colleagues and 
include in the Congressional Record excerpts from the publication ``War 
Letters: Extraordinary Correspondence from American Wars'', and a 
subsequent article authored by Andrew Carroll. I do not recall ever 
having read anything that better captures the joy of fatherhood, the 
scale of individual sacrifice for our Nation, or that conveys more 
fitting appreciation of our national insignia--our flag. In an era when 
nearly a third of our sons and daughters are raised without a father, 
when the traditional family and patriotism are wavering, it is my hope 
that these powerful letters may serve as a small inspiration.
  Author Andrew Carroll provides a preface introduction and details the 
circumstances relating to the writing of each letter.

       Twenty-six-year-old Capt. George Rarey, stationed in 
     England, was informed of the birth of his first child just 
     moments after coming back from a mission on March 22, 1944. 
     Overwhelmed with joy, Rarey sent a letter to his wife Betty 
     Lou (nicknamed June) in Washington, DC. A talented artist, 
     Rarey drew a sketch to commemorate the event.
       Darling, Darling, Junie!
       Junie, this happiness is nigh unbearable--Got back from a 
     mission at 4:00 this afternoon and came up to the hut for a 
     quick shave before chow and what did I see the deacon waving 
     at me as I walked up the road to the shack? A small yellow 
     envelope--I thought it was a little early but I quit 
     breathing completely until the wonderful news was unfolded--A 
     son! Darling, Junie! How did you do it?--I'm so proud of you 
     I'm beside myself--Oh you darling.
       All of the boys in the squadron went wild. Oh its 
     wonderful! I had saved my tobacco ration for the last two 
     weeks and had obtained a box of good American cigars--Old Doc 
     Finn trotted out two quarts of Black and White from his 
     medicine chest and we all toasted the fine new son and his 
     beautiful Mother. . . .
       Junie if this letter makes no sense forget it--I'm sort of 
     delirious--Today everything is special--This iron hut looks 
     like a castle--The low hanging overcast outside is the most 
     beautiful kind of blue I've ever seen--I'm a father--I have a 
     son! My darling Wife has had a fine boy and I'm a king--
     Junie, Darling, I hope it wasn't too bad--Oh I'm so glad its 
     over--Thank you, Junie--Thank you--thank you. . . .
       Oh, Junie, I wish I could be there--Now I think maybe I 
     could be of some help--There are so many things to be done--
     What a ridiculous and worthless thing a war is in the light 
     of such a wonderful event. that there will be no war for 
     Damon!--Junie, isn't there anything I can do to help out. . . 
     .
       Oh my beautiful darling, I love you more and more and 
     more--Gosh, I'm happy!--Sweet dreams my sweet mother, Love--
     Rarey.
       Capt. George Rarey was killed three months after writing 
     this letter.
       Even in the Internet age, many servicemen and women 
     continued to send their letters the old-fashioned way--
     through the mail. In 1997, 36-year-old Major Tom O'Sullivan 
     was in Bosnia, serving as the officer in charge of the first 
     Armored Division Assault Command Post and, later, as the 
     operations officer of the 4th Battalion, 67th Armor at Camp 
     Colt. O'Sullivan frequently wrote home to his wife Pam and 
     their two children, Tara and Conor, and on September 16, 
     1996--the day Conor turned seven--O'Sullivan (at far right, 
     with his Bosnian translator) sent a birthday gift he hoped 
     would have special meaning to his son:
       Dear Conor,
       I am very sorry that I could not be home for your seventh 
     birthday, but I will soon be finished with my time here in 
     Bosnia and will return to be with you again. You know how 
     much I love you, and that's what counts the most. I think 
     that all I will think about on your birthday is how proud I 
     am to be your dad and what a great kid you are.
       I remember the day you were born and how happy I was. It 
     was the happiest I have ever been in my life and I will never 
     forget that day. You were very little and had white hair. I 
     didn't let anyone else hold you much because I wanted to hold 
     you all the time. . . .
       There aren't any stores here in Bosnia, so I couldn't buy 
     you any toys or souvenirs for your birthday. What I am 
     sending you is something very special, though. It is a flag. 
     This flag represents America and makes me proud each time I 
     see it. When the people here in Bosnia see it on our 
     uniforms, on our vehicles, or flying above our camps, they 
     know that it represents freedom, and, for them, peace after 
     many years of war. Sometimes, this flag is even more 
     important to them than it is to people who live in America 
     because some Americans don't know much about the sacrifices 
     it represents or the peace it has brought to places like 
     Bosnia.
       This flag was flown on the flagpole over the headquarters 
     of Task Force 4-67 Armor, Camp Colt, in the Posavina Corridor 
     of northern Bosnia-Herzegovina, on 16 September 1996. It was 
     flown in honor of you on your seventh birthday. Keep it and 
     honor it always.
       Love, Dad.

       

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