A few years ago a friend of my daughter Babs made this poster for a school project. The teacher of the government classes at our high school did this project every year. These posters were displayed like yard signs on Veterans' Day on the lawn in front of the school. Students were required to make a poster about a family member who had served in one of the world wars, Korea, or Viet Nam wars. They had to include a picture, name, armed service, and the job of their relative. They also had to write a brief paper about that person's service.
Shelia "adopted" my father, pictured above, as her veteran for the project. Like many of the kids in the high school, her parents were born in India and she had no family member who was an American veteran. Shelia was a frequent visitor in our home, so she came over and interviewed me about my father and I scanned the picture for her. Too bad he is in civilian clothes here!
Seeing all those posters on the lawn of the school is a very moving experience--each one represents a different family who lives in our area. It made me think about the WWII veterans in my family and their different experiences in the service.
My father served in the Navy in Key West, chasing German subs, and then in the North China Sea for about 6 years. After WWII he married my mother, who he met while in officer training in Chicago, and went home to Texas to become a businessman. Like many other baby boomers, I am the product of a marriage produced by the war.
My father-in-law served in the Army Air Force. He never went overseas because of health problems, which saved his life as his unit suffered terrible casualties as the first group sent to make bombing runs over Germany. Likewise my mother's brother, Tom, who was badly injured in an army training accident in the UK before D-Day escaped the fate of most of his unit on D-Day.
My uncle Wendell also served in the Navy, patrolling the Caribbean and South America. My uncle Doug, also a Naval officer, served in Asia. Each returned to civilian life, part of a generation now called "the greatest generation." Each volunteered to serve the country in a time of peril. None looked for reward or honor for the years of their young lives that were spent in the effort. They became insurance agents, bankers, attorneys, truckers, and florists. They built their families and their country in the '50's and '60's.
One did not return. My uncle Graham, an army pilot, was shot down by the Germans over Italy in the waning days of the war and perished. My grandmother told me that the night he died she had a dream in which he appeared and assured her that he was all right. She said that she knew immediately that he had been killed in action. A couple of days later two officers appeared at her door to give her the news. His name lives on in my brother and his son.
Bill, Wendell, Doug, Tom and Graham are all gone now. My father-in-law Claude is the sole survivor of his generation of our family. He will be 90 in April. Although his memory is impaired, he remembers the time he spent in service and can still talk about it with pride. It was the most important time of his life in many ways. Like many young men from small towns his service exposed him to different people and other parts of the country. For all men of this generation, their service in WWII was a common bond.
The last of the greatest generation will soon pass away from us. Veteran's Day began to honor those who died in WWI in Europe. Sadly, since then there have been more wars and more dead and more veterans. I don't believe we will ever be free of war in this world because of the sinful nature of mankind. As this generation passes, let us remember these words from the famous WWI poem, In Flanders Fields:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
--
by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian army.
Thanks be to God for men like Bill, Tom, Graham, Wendell, Doug and Claude!
