As #Father’s Day approaches, I have been thinking about my father, Command Sergeant Major Dale Anderson. He was a career soldier who served 35 years in the #Army. He fought in the South Pacific during WWII, in Korean and, after a break in service, served two tours in #Vietnam. On his second tour in Vietnam, I was also there. I was a 1st Lt. in the 101st Airborne Division in I Corp and he was the First Sergeant of a tugboat company near Long Bien. We decided to get together at my base for a three-day pass.
At the time, I was the duty officer in the 1st Brigade Tactical Operations Center. We were on a half-day schedule - twelve hours on and twelve hours off. When I told everyone that my First Sergeant dad was going to visit, it raised many questions. People wanted to know if my father would call me “sir” since I out ranked him. Would I call him “dad” or “First Sergeant?”
Would he salute me? Would he walk one-step behind me and to my left? I didn’t know the answers myself, because my mother and father divorced when I was six.
During his visit, he was a professional at all times. If there were soldiers present, he addressed me as “sir.” In private, he called me “son” and I called him “dad.” In public, he did walk one-step behind me and to my left. At the end of his visit, I borrowed a jeep with an enlisted driver. When we arrived at his chopper, he turned and saluted me.
Sadly, he passed away a few years ago, but this is one of my fondest memories of him. Happy Father’s Day.
At the time, I was the duty officer in the 1st Brigade Tactical Operations Center. We were on a half-day schedule - twelve hours on and twelve hours off. When I told everyone that my First Sergeant dad was going to visit, it raised many questions. People wanted to know if my father would call me “sir” since I out ranked him. Would I call him “dad” or “First Sergeant?”
Would he salute me? Would he walk one-step behind me and to my left? I didn’t know the answers myself, because my mother and father divorced when I was six.
During his visit, he was a professional at all times. If there were soldiers present, he addressed me as “sir.” In private, he called me “son” and I called him “dad.” In public, he did walk one-step behind me and to my left. At the end of his visit, I borrowed a jeep with an enlisted driver. When we arrived at his chopper, he turned and saluted me.
Sadly, he passed away a few years ago, but this is one of my fondest memories of him. Happy Father’s Day.
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