The Mancle on my chest.

I am posting this for the first time via ping.fm - hopeful that it will work.


A few weeks ago, I was looking at my Poppy's dog-tag. He wears it proudly, has since vietnam - I was inspecting it when I realized that they had his first name misspelled. When I pointed it out to him, he said he couldn't believe he had been wearing it since the '60s and never knew they had his first name spelled as "Mancle" instead of "Nancel".


Last night, I ordered him a new set. He needed one anyone considering he only had one of his two originals. Apparently, after Vietnam, they changed the format of the tags. They now laser the information on instead of stenciling it in.


I explained to him that I could get a vintage one stenciled or a newer type. I figured he'd go for the vintage - which he did. I purchased a set for myself...lasered.


http://ping.fm/mttTc


When I told him they would be here next week, he took his old one off and handed it to me. "Welp, this is yours now, I'll wait on my new set."


I said "Poppy, you don't have to give yours away." he said "I want you to have it. I worked hard to earn that. It's yours."


I stood there with it in my hand. Looking at the "Mancle". Feeling the texture. Knowing that everyday he fights with the mental ramifications of what this stood for. Knowing he fought for my country before I was born. Knowing that he suffers.


Tears welled up in my eyes, I turned and ran back to my room. I didn't want him to see how touched I was. I didn't want him to see how much it affected me.


Today, I am wearing Poppy's dog-tag proudly on the outside of my shirt. "Mancle" says it all.