“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1 NIV).
The older I get the more I love history. I guess you have to have a little history of your own before you learn to appreciate it.
I also love researching my family ancestry. I think it’s because my father, Claude Combs, died when I was only eight. Since I haven’t been able to ask him personally, I do research.
These photos are of my father when he was serving in Korea. He was stationed in Seoul. I found these old B/W photos in my mother’s things when she died. I’m glad he wrote on the backs of most of them, otherwise I wouldn’t have a clue about their significance. In the photo below he is being congratulated by Major Jones for being the “Man of the Month.” If you look closely, you can see a sign in the background that says, “Motor Pool.”
My father was an identical twin and both he and his brother, Clyde, lived on a farm with their parents and younger sister. When WWII broke out, Clyde was drafted and served. But they left Claude at home. After Clyde served his time. The Korean conflict began and they drafted my dad.
Both my father and my uncle never talked about these wars. They were part of the silent generation.
Their father and my grandfather, Taulbee Combs, fought in WWI. He fought in the trenches of France. I never heard him talk about it until he was in his 70s and started suffering from Alzheimers. After that, it seemed to be the only thing he could remember. He couldn’t always remember me, but he could remember the war.
“Yeah, I’d be in a ‘parlez-vous’ with those Frenchies when the bullets would start flying. They’d buzz by your head like bees. Just like bees!”
He would repeat this story over and over. Forgetting that he had just told it. What was it about war that an old man could forget everything in his life, but remember it?
In my research of the Combs family tree, I have discovered that we are part of an old line. The first Combs boy born in America was Archdale Combs, born in Rappahannock, Virginia in 1642. His parents, John and Elizabeth, were from England.
My branch of the Combs tree never strayed far from old Virginia. My grandfather’s grandfather, Samuel Combs, fought with Virginia’s 37th Infantry Regiment in the Civil War. He died at age 28 when his son (my great grandfather) Elbert was only two.
I wondered for some time about his early death. I couldn’t find anyone who knew why he’d died so young. But recently I discovered this entry in my online research:
“Samuel served in the Confederate Army during the Civil War. He was killed at the Battle of Cedar Creek in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia in October of 1864. And was buried at Culpepper, VA. He was apparently buried as an unknown. We could not find his name in either cemetery in Culpepper. He was shot in the leg and bled to death. The Rev. Joseph Kendrick, a close friend from Russell County was with him” (From the remembrances of Dixie Lee Lambert Sowers, Ancestry.com).
I never knew this amazing story. I guess we can easily take our freedom for granted, unless we understand that freedom isn’t free.
Someone had to sacrifice. Someone had to bleed and die, so that we can live free. That’s true for a nation called America.
And it’s true for all of us who believe in the Christ who died, so that we could be truly free.