McCain: Speech Today - The battlelines are drawn (not)

My grandfather commanded the fast carrier task force in the Pacific under Admiral Halsey, and devised many of the tactics that were employed by carriers for many years after. He was instrumental in Japan's defeat, and was given a privileged place on the deck of the U.S.S. Missouri to witness the signing of the unconditional surrender that ended the war. My father commanded a submarine in the Pacific during the war, survived several harrowing experiences, and had brought a Japanese submarine into Tokyo Harbor at the time of the surrender ceremony. Both were exhausted at war's end, but happy to have the opportunity for a brief reunion. They met onboard a submarine tender, and spent a couple of hours together. My grandfather was worn out and obviously ill. Years later, my father recalled the last words my grandfather had ever spoken to him. "Son, there is no greater thing than to die . . . for the country and principles that you believe in." After father and son parted that afternoon, my grandfather began the long trip home to Coronado. Not long after he arrived, at a homecoming party, he turned to my grandmother, and announced he did not feel well. He died a moment later of a heart attack. He had fought his war and died in service to the country he believed in.

My father could not return to the States in time for the funeral. My mother found him waiting for her to return to California from the funeral in Washington, weeping on the airport tarmac. In time, my father, the son of a legendary naval leader, would rise to an even greater command than his father had. During the Vietnam War, he commanded all U.S. forces in the Pacific, at the top of a chain of command that included, near the bottom, his son, a naval aviator on Yankee Station in the Tonkin Gulf, and later a prisoner of war in Hanoi. My father seldom spoke of my captivity to anyone outside the family, and never in public. He prayed on his knees every night for my safe return. He would spend holidays with the troops in Vietnam, near the DMZ. At the end of his visit, he would walk alone to the base perimeter, and look north toward the city where I was held. Yet, when duty required it, he gave the order for B-52s to bomb Hanoi, in close proximity to my prison. ...

I am the son and grandson of admirals. My grandfather was an aviator; my father a submariner. They were my first heroes, and their respect for me has been one of the most lasting ambitions of my life. They gave their lives to their country, and taught me lessons about honor, courage, duty, perseverance and leadership that I didn't fully grasp until later in life, but remembered when I needed them most. I have been an imperfect servant of my country for many years. But I am their son, and they showed me how to love my country, and that has made all the difference for me, my friends, all the difference in the world.