Amazing how you can have so many ideas floating in your head and once you sit down they all scatter away.

I suppose though, as Wednesday is Veterans' Day, I should say a word about some fallen shipmates of mine. They were actually "airdales" and flew the P3C Orion. There were 26 guys who flew out on 2 aircraft for a training mission. No one knows what happened. It was almost 19 years ago and I don't remember the exact particulars, except how they pertained to me.

I was in London when the phone rang at 2 in the morning. My former roommate from the squadron, Katy, was calling to let me know they were all gone. Gone in a flash. Gone without warning. One had left his girlfriend in the hospital, expecting to return in time for the birth of their twins the next day.

I was sitting alone in the dark, phone in hand, listening to name after name. Her fiance, Warren, had been among those killed. One of my dearest friends, "Spuds," was gone. Several guys I had dated were gone. All were dear, dear friends of mine. All too young. All too soon.

Veterans' Day rolls around and even now, with men and women facing death every day in Iraq and Afghanistan, I think people consider it a holiday for old men. There are veterans of every age, from 18 and up, who need to be remembered. And I think families should be remembered too. They sacrifice as well.

I'm not very eloquent, especially on this subject, as it is hard for me to write about, but please remember all the veterans and their families this Wednesday. The job they do is hard and thankless at times and should be honored, on Veterans' Day, and every other day of the year.