Timmy J. Millsap
2006-11-16
To Allyne, to Deanna, and to those much are closer than I; to Timmy.
It has taken decades to find you, a couple of Christmas cards a long while ago, days of research, and hours to think. As I reflect, I aim to type a worthy compilation - and hopefully appropriate message – obviously way too late for me.
Only if I had known…
Having served alongside Timmy in West Germany a very very long time ago, along the East German (DDR) border; for me there was a clear mix of pure professionalism with a great sense of humor - and more importantly – dignity – in Timmy’s demeanor, and everything he did.
Thoughts: As I look back, Soccer matches against the very best, inches from the East Germany border. A broken leg came later in another ordeal – and a new word came into our vocabularies – “Krankenhous” (sp). Later, Deanna came along. Challenges – was all what is was, and Timmy showed everyone how to hack through it all.
For some reason we also hack through life, no matter where we are, and expect those who might not be in such good contact, and in Timmy’s case, with very good reason; it is tragic to find out such news.
So I offer the Millsap’s friends and family my deepest sympathies from where I live now- Spain. I would like to finish with a quote from my own younger brother, who visited Bad Hersfeld – where we served – as advice for the the next generation:
“[11:00:55 PM] Luke Polansky HOME says: tell her (Allyne) that your brother .... who never served... holds a man who he never met in the highest respect –
[11:01:08 PM] Luke Polansky HOME says: and he has bought our freedom”
Go Red Devils….
Joby Polansky (Mojacar Spain, WI)
Timmy Millsap
2005-06-24
Freedom Isn't Free
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze
A young soldier saluted it, and then
He stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many Pilots' planes shot down?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No Freedom isn't free
I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard at the
bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.....
No -- Freedom isn't free!!
...Cadet Major Kelly Strong
Air Force Junior ROTC