Veteran’s Day

As Mary, my sister-in-law, and I chatted on the phone yesterday, our conversation centered on memories of family and relatives who had fought in American wars. She told me about her father who fought in World War 1. He had been gassed while fighting in the Ardennes. When the gas attack began, he was able to quickly dig a hole under a fallen and decaying tree, crawled in and covered himself as best he could. Later when he thought it safe enough he left the burrow he had made and the first thing he saw was a soldier friend laying near by, killed by the gas. He was taken in by a French family that cared and nursed him for a short time. The family had a small daughter named Bernice and years later, Mary’s father named his first daughter Bernice after the youngster.

Mary, who grew up in Sioux City, Iowa, and I, across the state in Iowa Falls, recalled how we were taught to observe Veteran’s Day. If November 11th was a school day, we were ushered into the assembly hall to stand quietly. When the Principal announced the time as being exactly 11 o’clock, we bowed our heads in total silence for one whole minute. It wasn’t called Veteran’s Day, but Armistice Day. After the silent prayer, students were allowed to go home since school was in session for only half a day.

During WWII my family had members in all services, Army, Navy, Waves, Marines, Air Force and the Merchant Marines. They fought in India, Europe, Germany, France, England, Pacific Islands, and on Atlantic voyages to and from the Soviet Union. War news was constantly on one’s mind. Each time I watch a war movie, I recall memories of anxiety and dread as family and friends waited for war news to be headlined.

Last night I watched the movie Patton on TV. I’ve seen the film many times but last night’s viewing seemed to have romanced the battles for territory as competition for prestige and glory was played out between the ambitious generals, Patton and Montgomery each trying to reach Berlin first. I wondered if jealousy existed between the generals we have in Iraq and if so, how it might be affecting the troops.

To days TV news clips showed impressive ceremonies at Arlington National Cemetery and at the Wall dedicated to those who died in Vietnam. Observances through out the country paid tribute to all the veterans living and dead that have served this country. I was especially moved by a story of a young 15 year old girl who played taps on her bugle during one of the many ceremonies. The 24 notes were played beautifully and perfectly. Afterward she told a reporter she believed those who died fighting for this country were due the honor of a real person playing taps rather than recorded ones.