Tag Archives: Veterans Day

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Honor our vets … and the nation they served

My favorite veteran, my Dad, left this Earth 44 years ago. He never had the chance to grow old, as he was just 59 when he perished in a freak boating accident in British Columbia.

Pete Kanelis, though, was every bit a hero in my eyes and, yes, in the eyes of the nation he served with honor and distinction in one of its darkest times: World War II.  Dad’s heroism didn’t stand out among the 16 million men and women who suited up for that war. But he fought hard against the tyrants who sought to subjugate us all.

He was the farthest thing possible from being a “sucker” and a “loser,” if you get my drift.

Dad did not teach me many valuable life lessons during his time on Earth. Two things stand out. He valued family above all else. He also was an unabashed, unapologetic patriot who loved this nation and was prepared to fight to the death to preserve it.

He exhibited that pride on Dec. 7, 1941, the “date which will live … in infamy,” as FDR said the next day in the speech to Congress in which he asked for a declaration of war against Japan. The day of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, Dad was listening to news reports at home in Portland with his parents and his six siblings.

He walked out of the house and went downtown to the armed forces recruiting office where he saw that the U.S. Navy was open for business. He enlisted that afternoon. 

Dad knew the fight for our national life was about to begin and he wanted to be a part of it. He got his wish … and then some!

He never boasted about what he did that day. In fact, my bride and I didn’t learn about it until 2019, when one of his brothers, Uncle Tino, told us what transpired that day. “I was 9 years old,” Tino said, “and I remember it vividly.” Dad was a 20-year-old college sophomore on that fateful day.

He taught me, without fanfare or bravado, that when your country needs your service, you step up and serve in any way you can. I would do so later … but this tale is about my favorite veteran and the heroism he displayed the moment he knew his country needed him.

Pete Kanelis embodied the best among us and on this Veterans Day, I salute all who served the greatest nation on Earth.

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Happy Veterans Day everyone!

Occasionally I feel a little strange paying tribute to veterans, given I am one myself. I mean, it’s a bit embarrassing to offer thanks to veterans, implying that I am thanking myself for the tiny bit of military service I gave to the nation I love.

But … what the heck. I’m going to do so again today.

You’ve heard me go on and on about my favorite veteran, my Dad, the late Pete Kanelis, a sailor who saw combat in World War II. He went to the armed forces recruiting office on the very Sunday the Japanese hit our military installations at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. He intended to join the Marine Corps, but the USMC office was closed, so he walked across the hall to enlist in the Navy.

Those men served “for the duration” of the war effort. In late 1941, they had no way of knowing when — or if — they would return home. Dad knew the risk, but he was angry enough to follow his gut instinct. Dad wanted to get into the fight, and he did … along with 16 million other Americans.

These veterans are dying steadily these days. The last count I heard of the living World War II generation of veterans was fewer than 400,000.

The nation these days is bending over backward to thank veterans. Given that I am one of them, I accept the nation’s gratitude with humility. My own service in another war was insignificant, but it surely never lessened my own love of country, nor my commitment to serve my country honorably.

Millions of men and women have donned the uniform of all the services we deploy in time of war and peace. And at the risk of sounding a bit self-serving, I extend my heartfelt thanks — not just to the Greatest Generation that included my Dad — but to all the vets who did their duty with honor.

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Gesture speaks of nation’s maturity

Americans of a certain age or older remember how it used to be in this nation when it came to our military veterans.

We were treated like, well, the spawn of Satan. Folks scorned veterans during the Vietnam War even though we were merely following lawful orders, which were the policies of politicians. The war was unpopular. Americans were rioting and veterans bore the brunt of the criticism.

This is my kinda strange way of telling you about a gesture I received this morning when I walked into a cafe to have breakfast after dropping Toby the Puppy off at the doctor’s office, where he is being treated for cancer.

I walked into Norma’s Cafe in Dallas. I sat down and a young cafe staffer noticed I was wearing one of my Vietnam vet gimme caps. He placed a Veterans Day weekend menu in front of me and said, “All vets eat for free this weekend.”

OK. I know it’s a gesture being repeated by businesses all across this great land. It seems routine, right? Yes. It should be routine and veterans everywhere no doubt appreciate gestures such as the one I received this morning.

I mention this only because it was just a couple of generations ago that Americans were unable or unwilling to exhibit any level of appreciation to those who donned a uniform and served to defend the nation we all love.

We have come a long way, indeed.

Nice going, America … and thank you.

military news

Relishing the recognition

Oh, how I am relishing the love and respect that comes to veterans these days.

Veterans Day 2021 is about to pass into history, but I have to offer a brief word of thanks to Americans who take the time to express their thanks for the service millions of us have given to the nation.

Why relish this now? In this day and time?

Because I came from an age when it wasn’t always the case. I am a member of the Vietnam War generation. I served for a time in that war zone. I came home and was greeted with … well, what I have called raging indifference. Some of us took the blame for a war policy that went badly. Yes, Americans blamed the warriors for carrying out the lawful — if mistaken — orders from the top of the chain of command.

That is not the case today. For that I am grateful and appreciative of the expressions of thanks I get fairly routinely.

The nation’s collective attitude seemed to change about the time the Persian Gulf War ended in early 1991. It was a brief, but violent conflict. Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait and took command of that nation’s vast oil reserves. President George H.W. Bush declared the occupation of Kuwait “will not stand.” President Bush ordered the mustering of a half-million troops in the region.

Then we launched air attacks against Iraq. Then the troops rolled into Kuwait. We took control of the country after just a few days. Then our troops came home to the kind of welcome we hadn’t seen since the end of World War II.

They were victorious! They accomplished their mission. We were proud of them. Who led the national cheering? Vietnam War veterans organizations were instrumental in that effort. I am proud of the work they put in to welcome home the men and women who liberated Kuwait.

The love and respect has continued as we have welcome troops home from Iraq and Afghanistan.

Thus, Veterans Day has become the kind of celebration that our veterans have deserved all along.

Thank you, America.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

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Veterans Day story for the ages

I want to share a story about a particular U.S. Army veteran, a man I did not know, but who is a dearly beloved member of my family.

His name was George Filipu. He was my grandfather, Mom’s dear, sweet father. I was born in December 1949. My Papou and my Yiayia came to meet me when I was about three weeks old. He died later that day of a heart attack. Note: I want to refer them by the Greek terms for “grandfather” and “grandmother.” 

But when he first arrived in the United States in the early 1900s, he and my Yiayia got married. In November 1918, he decided he wanted to enlist in the Army. At that time U.S. immigration policy granted instant citizenship to non-citizens who wanted to serve in the military.

Papou wanted to serve, so he joined the Army because he wanted to get into the fight in Europe; I refer to World War I.

Then something happened for the betterment of the planet: they signed an armistice and the fighting stopped. Papou’s military service was cut short.

However, because of the policy that granted him citizenship, he was able to maintain his American citizen status. I want to add that, according to stories handed down by Mom and her brothers Phil and Jim, Papou wore his pride in his new country on his sleeve as well as in his heart.

He and Yiayia loved this country beyond measure. They never returned to the “old country.” Yiayia in particular refused to return, saying, in effect, “This is my home and this is where I will remain.”

Yiayia lived a long life after Papou died. She passed away on the Fourth of July 1978. We are certain she chose that day to leave this world because (a) she loved this country deeply and (b) she wanted to make sure we would remember it.

My Papou, George Filipu was willing to fight for the country that he, too, loved. He was a proud U.S. Army veteran.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

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He was my favorite veteran

My favorite veteran would have turned 100 this past May. He never saw his 60th birthday … and I remember him with great fondness.

That is him in the picture. He is the sailor standing at the door, guarding it with a British Royal Marine. I should tell you that the room on the other side of the door contained the Allied naval commander in the Mediterranean and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill.

My favorite veteran, of course, is my dad Pete Kanelis.

Dad imbued in me a love of country. He was a true-blue patriot. It was his country, right or wrong. He went to war for the nation that welcomed his parents to its shores at the turn of the 20th century. My grandparents came to America not knowing a word of English; they spoke Greek in the home. Dad didn’t learn English until he went to school in Pittsburgh, Pa.; he told me his first day ended when he ran home crying because he couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.

He learned the language.

On Dec. 7, 1941, Dad was sitting at home in Portland, Ore., listening on the radio to reports of what happened that morning in Hawaii. He was a 20-year-old college student. Dad left the house, took a bus downtown and went to the armed forces recruiting station intending to enlist in the Marine Corps; the USMC office was closed. He walked across the hall to join the Navy … on the very day we were attacked by Japanese forces.

My favorite veteran reported for duty several weeks later as the nation mobilized to fight the tyrants in Europe and Asia. He went to Navy boot camp for three weeks and then shipped out to England.

Dad saw combat in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations. He swam for his life after an Italian dive bomber sank his ship in the Med. Dad participated in the invasions of Sicily and Italy, landing at Salerno in 1943.

His Navy career ended in the Philippines, where he was staging for an invasion of Japan. President Truman then decided to drop The Bomb on Hiroshima and then Nagasaki. The war ended. Dad came home. He married my mother. He welcome me into the world in late 1949; the first of my two sisters came along in March 1951, while the youngest of us arrived in April 1957.

He didn’t volunteer much about what he did during The War. However, he would talk about it when someone asked.

He was part of what they call The Greatest Generation. He answered the call to duty, he did his duty, then he came home and got on with the rest of his life. If only it hadn’t ended so early.

He is my favorite veteran and I honor his service to the nation he loved beyond measure … while honoring as well all of those who wore the nation’s uniform.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

military news

Thank a veteran; they appreciate the love

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In recent years I have been more vocal in thanking veterans I recognize when I see them.

You can spot a vet when he or she is wearing a “gimme cap” that declares their status as a veteran. I especially do so when I see someone wearing a World War II or Korean War veteran cap. Why? The answer is obvious: they are getting quite old.

I don’t see many WWII vets these days, given their dwindling numbers. The last vet from that era I saw, I thanked him “for saving the world from tyranny.” He responded with something that suggested he had little to do with the fight. I offered my thanks once again and told him, “You deserve all the thanks that should come your way.” He smiled, shook my hand and didn’t say another word.

Sixteen million Americans suited up to fight tyranny and oppression during World War II. Last I heard there are about 500,000 (or fewer) of them alive today. The Korean War broke out five years after the end of World War II, so those vets are quite long in the tooth as well.

Veterans Day is approaching. I intend to go out of my way to thank every single vet I see that day and will dedicate myself to thanking them until they plant me into the ground.

As for Vietnam War veterans, my standard greeting to them is a simple “Welcome home,” which those of us who served in that conflict have come to appreciate. We didn’t get that kind of welcome when we came home from Southeast Asia.

So there you go. If you see a veteran, extend a word of thanks. I know for a fact they appreciate hearing it. Don’t stop doing so when Veterans Day comes to an end.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

local news

I salute my favorite veteran

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By JOHN KANELIS / johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

My favorite veteran would be 99 years of age had he been given more time on this good Earth.

He died 40 years ago. Peter John Kanelis was just 59 years of age when he perished in a freak boating accident up yonder in British Columbia.

I have saluted him already on this blog as we commemorate Veterans Day. I’ll do so again simply by thanking him for imbuing in me a sense of duty to my country. He exhibited the meaning of answering the call to duty on arguably one of the darkest days in U.S. history.

Japanese warplanes attacked our fleet at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii and Dad, who was just 20 years of age then, was listening to the radio reports of what had occurred. He got up from his chair and left my grandparents’ house in Portland, Ore. Dad ventured downtown to the armed forces recruiting station. The Marine Corps office was closed that Sunday, so he walked across the hall to enlist in the Navy.

Roughly two months later, Dad reported for duty and went to war, joining 16 million Americans to fight tyranny around the world.

Dad taught me implicitly years later about duty and honor and love of country. He didn’t generally volunteer much of about what he endured in the Mediterranean Theater of operations; I would ask him and he would talk about it. He was proud of the service he delivered to his country.

I am proud of him to this day. I also am proud of all the members of the Greatest Generation who triumphed over tyranny as well as all who served — and are serving in defense of this great nation.

If you see someone you recognize as a veteran, thank him or her. I do so regularly … in honor of my favorite veteran.

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Be sure to thank our WWII, Korean War vets

Their ranks are diminishing each day.

I refer to the brave veterans of two long-ago wars: World War II and the Korean War.

World War II came to an end in September 1945; less than five years later, North Korea invaded South Korea and the Korean War was on. Thus, the men who fought on World War II battlefields aren’t much older than those who fought in Korea.

Monday is Veterans Day. I am a veteran as well. My wife and I are going to breakfast in the morning at a restaurant that will provide free chow to vets who I presume can present some ID that proves they served in the military; I have the ID, so I’ll enjoy a meal on the house.

If I see any WWII or Korean War vets, I’ll be sure to extend a hand of gratitude for their service. I’ll know them if they are wearing a ballcap that IDs them in that manner.

These men and women are in their very late 80s and 90s these days. Sixteen million Americans served in the military during World War II; fewer than 500,000 of them are still among us. During the Korean War, 5.7 million Americans wore our nation’s uniform and my hunch is that their numbers have diminished to levels rivaling the WWII vets.

Sooner than many of us want to acknowledge, there will be no one left from those two grisly conflicts.

So I am pledging to shake as many hands and express my thanks and gratitude to as many individuals as I recognize as vets. My gratitude will extend far beyond a single day we set aside to honor these brave Americans.

And rest assured, by all means we should honor all the men and women who have served our nation.

All of them have earned our eternal thanks.

national news

My favorite veteran would enjoy the recognition he deserves

The picture you see here reveals my favorite veteran. He’s the fellow on the right, the sailor who is standing guard next to a British marine in front of a door where some highly sensitive negotiations were underway.

The sailor is Pete Kanelis, my father. The marine’s name, as Dad told me, was Tony. That’s all I know. The year was 1943. The place was off the coast of Sicily aboard a command ship in the Mediterranean Sea.

The negotiation involved the Allied naval commander in the Med and the British prime minister, Winston Churchill.

So, Dad had a brush with arguably the 20th century’s greatest statesman. As Dad told me the story, Churchill looked at him, asked Dad a question, then patted him on the head and said something like, “There you go, Yank.”

Dad will be among the veterans we will honor Monday. It’s called Veterans Day, a holiday that came into being known as Armistice Day; it was established to commemorate the end of World War I, which was supposed to be The War to End All Wars. It wasn’t.

World War II followed. The United States joined the fight on Dec. 7, 1941, with the attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

I learned something profound about my favorite veteran on a trip to the Pacific Northwest with my wife in September. Dad’s youngest brother, Tino, told my wife and me about the day of the attack on Pearl Harbor. “I was 9 nine years old at the time,” Uncle Tino told us, “and I remember it vividly.” The family was listening to the radio news broadcast of the attack and its immediate aftermath.

Tino looked around for his big brother. “Where’s Pete?” Tino said he asked about Dad. He was gone. He had left the house in northeast Portland; he went downtown to enlist in the Navy.

Yes, Dad was so incensed at what had happened in Hawaii, he enlisted on that very day to get into the fight. He would suit up a month or so later. He would complete his basic training in San Diego, Calif. and then would ship out for Europe.

He got his wish. Dad took part in the fight to save the world from the despots in Berlin, Rome and Tokyo who wanted to subject the rest of us to their tyranny.

All told, about 16 million Americans took part in that great struggle. Seventy-five years later, their numbers have dwindled to just slightly less than 500,000 men and women. They are almost all gone.

Indeed, just this weekend, the last known survivor of the Pearl Harbor attack reportedly passed on. I fear the day when all those Americans who answered their nation’s call will be gone.

We honor them today. We honor all our veterans who have donned a military uniform — in war and in peace.

It is their day. As for Dad, I am immensely proud to be the son of an American who performed heroically and who, along with his comrades in arms, saved the world.