At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, Armistice Day marked the end of “the war to end all wars”. A noble aspiration perhaps, and pointless, obviously, but it established a day on which we celebrate Veterans of all wars.
Yes, Harry is a veteran, though not of World War I vintage. He was on River Patrol Boats in Vietnam, not on a chestnut Thoroughbred! But he had an old WWI uniform, and it fit.
Here is actual photographic evidence of Harry’s service…
My Irish paternal family, the Barrys, sent three sons from two generations to both World Wars.
Great Uncle Gerard Barry was badly wounded as a balloonist in the Royal Observer Corps, and later sadly died when accidentally shot by a sentry in Cork in 1921. I have his silver matchbox.
Great Uncle John Redmond Barry was a decorated (CBE, DSO) Brigadier General in the Royal Army in the First War and the Second War, where he was among the last out of Dunkirk. While recovering from being seriously wounded at Passchendaele in WWI, he married Great Aunt Mary, a union that lasted 61 years.
Great Uncle John was a horseman and a keen fox hunter. Visiting him in Wexford, when I was sixteen, had a profound influence on my life
As for my grandfather, James Harding Barry, he served with great distinction in the First War (D.S.O., M.C., R.A.M.C.).
Excerpted from “Not Blind To Duty” by Gerald Gallagher :
In August 1914, leaving a note on his desk reading “Off to the War”, Dr. Barry joined the Royal Army Medical Corps, receiving his commission on 11 September. Assigned to the London Regiment, he spent three years in France as a regimental medical officer. Being an unassuming person, Dr. Barry spoke little of his experiences in later years, though others of the regiment enjoyed recounting his exploits. A typical anecdote describes how, during a search for wounded in No Man’s Land at night, he bumped into a German soldier. Putting his pipe into the man’s back and ordering “Hande Hoch!”, he brought back a valuable prisoner.
Jim, as my grandfather was known, wrote an autobiography, describing his time in the trenches, which is a great treasure.
My grandfather was the only one of those three brothers to have children, and his three sons, Uncle Pete, Uncle Mike, and Brian, my father, all served in World War II and all survived. Uncle Pete was in Royal Naval Intelligence at Scapa Flow, Uncle Mike was in the RAF as a paratrooper, and was the first man to land on “A Bridge Too Far” at Arnhem. He was wounded, and taken prisoner by the Germans, but he came home to become a beloved country doctor. The youngest son, Brian, was an officer in the Royal Navy aboard HMS Orion at D-Day.
To the men who served in my generation, Welcome Home. Here is Harry with Tony at The Wall in Washington D.C. on their Honor Flight last year.
Finally, to celebrate our Veterans, the skies lit up tonight with Northern Lights, even way south, here in Missouri. How lucky we are to be alive to see such a sky! Niece Rachael, from Montana, texted us to make sure we didn’t miss the show. It is only the second time I have ever seen the Northern Lights.
Be safe, be well, enjoy this magical world! Be grateful and kind. Slava Ukraini! Peace…
Galloping Through 
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